Then he sent her to bed.
But when Jeanne reached her own room she thought neither of sleeping nor of undressing.

She put out the light, and sat down on the bed.
Carriages rumbled in the street, steps sounded, and women's dresses rustled in the corridor; sitting motionless there in the dark she did not hear.

She had put out the light that she might think, that she might see only her own thoughts, only that idea which had taken possession of her while coming down-stairs at Casa Guarnacci leaning on the Professor's arm, after she had heard those terrible words: "We fear he will not live!" and had almost lost consciousness.

In the carriage with Signora Albacina, in the room with her brother, even while obliged to talk with one or the other, to pay attention to so many different things, this idea, this proposal, which the burning heart was making to the will, had been continually flashing within her.

Now it flashed no longer.