I leaped from my bed and fled to the farther end of the room; but she followed me.
"It is I!" said she; putting her arms around me, she drew me to her.
"What do you want of me ?" I cried.

"Leave, me! I fear I shall kill you!" "Very well, kill me!" she said.

"I have deceived you, I have lied to you, I am an infamous wretch and I am miserable; but I love you, and I can not live without you." I looked at her; how beautiful she was! Her body was quivering; her eyes were languid with love and moist with voluptuousness; her bosom was bare, her lips were burning.

I raised her in my arms.
"Very well," I said, "but before God who sees us, by the soul of my father, I swear that I will kill you and that I will die with you." I took a knife from the table and placed it under the pillow.
"Come, Octave," she said, smiling and kissing me, "do not be foolish.
Come, my dear, all these horrors have unsettled your mind; you are feverish.

Give me that knife." I saw that she wished to take it.
"Listen to me," I then said; "I do not know what comedy you are playing, but as for me I am in earnest.