"Yes," resumed he, "when I came to myself, and saw you so poorly clad, I felt something good about my heart--do you know why?--it was because I said to myself, `Poor girl! she has kept her word bravely; she has chosen to toil, and want, and suffer--rather than take another love--who would have given her what I gave her as long as I could'--and that thought, Cephyse, refreshed my soul.I needed it, for I was burning--and I burn still," added he, clinching his fists with pain; "but that made me happy-
-it did me good--thanks, my good, brave Cephyse--yes, you are good and brave--and you were right; for I never loved any but you in the wide world; and if, in my degradation, I had one thought that raised me a little above the filth, and made me regret that I was not better--the thought was of you! Thanks then, my poor, dear love," said Jacques, whose hot and shining eyes were becoming moist; "thanks once again," and he reached his cold hand to Cephyse; "if I die, I shall die happy--if I live, I shall live happy also.Give me your hand, my brave Cephyse!--you have acted like a good and honest creature."
Instead of taking the hand which Jacques offered her, Cephyse, still kneeling, bowed her head, and dared not raise her eyes to her lover.
"You don't answer," said he, leaning over towards the young girl; "you don't take my hand--why is this?"