"No, no, no!" she cried at last. "I am mad! I am wicked! Let us go away,
let us go away!" She raised her tearful face. "Let us go to Rome!" said
she.
"Yes, yes!" Noemi answered in great agitation, "we will go to Rome. We
will leave at once. Let me go and ask when the next train starts."
Jeanne immediately seized upon her and held her back. No, no, it was
madness. What would her sister say? What would her brother-in-law think?
It was madness, an impossibility! And besides, besides, besides--She
hid her face, whispering behind her hands that she would be satisfied if
she could only see him for one moment; but she could not--no, no--she
could not leave without having seen him.
"Enough!" said she, uncovering her face, after a long pause. "Let us
dress! I will wear whatever you please; sackcloth, if you wish it, or
even haircloth!"
Her face had resumed the aggrieved smile she had worn before.
"Who can tell?" she said. "Perhaps it will do me good to see him in the
dress of a peasant!"
"It would cure _me_ at once!" Noemi muttered; then she blushed, for she
felt she had spoken a great untruth.
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