He wanted Therese to kiss the scar, convinced that the lips of this woman would appease the thousand pricks lacerating his flesh, and with raised chin he presented his extended neck for the embrace.

Therese, who was almost lying back on the marble chimney-piece, gave a supreme gesture of disgust, and in a supplicating voice exclaimed: "Oh! no, not on that part.

There is blood." She sank down on the low chair, trembling, with her forehead between her hands.

Laurent remained where he stood for a moment, looking stupid.
Then, all at once, with the clutch of a wild beast, he grasped the head of Therese in his two great hands, and by force brought her lips to the bite he had received from Camille on his neck.

For an instant he kept, he crushed, this head of a woman against his skin.