And having these thoughts and seeing her hesitate--hesitate when every movement caused him agony, so imperative was haste, so precious the opportunity--he could bear the suspense no longer.

When she did not answer he stooped forward, until his knees touched the thwart on which Carlat had sat; then, without a word, he flung himself forward, and, with one hand far extended, grasped the packet.
Had he not moved, she would have done his will; almost certainly she would have done it.

But, thus attacked, she resisted instinctively; she clung to the letters.
"No!" she cried.

"No! Let go, Monsieur!" And she tried to drag the packet from him.
"Give it me!" "Let go, Monsieur! Do you hear ?" she repeated.

And, with a vigorous jerk, she forced it from him--he had caught it by the edge only--and held it behind her.