Those were her last words. Max and Madame de Piennes held her cold hands for a long time without daring to raise their eyes.
IV
Well, madam, you tell me that my story is finished, and you do not wish to hear more. I would have believed that you would be curious to know whether M. de Salligny made the voyage to Greece or not; if—but it is late, you have had enough. Very well! At least refrain from rash judgments, I protest that I have said nothing to authorise you to indulge in them.
Above all, do not doubt that my story is true. You do doubt it? Go to Père-Lachaise: twenty paces to the left of the tomb of General Foy, you will find a simple stone, surrounded with flowers always well kept. Upon the stone you can read the name of my heroine graven in large characters: ARSÈNE GUILLOT, and, by bending over that tomb, you will discover, if the rain has not already effaced it, a line traced with a pencil, in very fine writing: "Poor Arsène! she prays for us."
