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?‰mile, 1840-1902

"Four Short Stories By Emile Zola"

The room being
but imperfectly lighted by the lamp, he inquired: "Is the body here?"
"Yes, it is," answered Simoneau.
Marguerite had risen, trembling violently. Mme Gabin dismissed Dede,
saying it was useless that a child should be present, and then she tried
to lead my wife to the window, to spare her the sight of what was about
to take place.
The doctor quickly approached the bed. I guessed that he was bored,
tired and impatient. Had he touched my wrist? Had he placed his hand on
my heart? I could not tell, but I fancied that he had only carelessly
bent over me.
"Shall I bring the lamp so that you may see better?" asked Simoneau
obligingly.
"No it is not necessary," quietly answered the doctor.
Not necessary! That man held my life in his hands, and he did not think
it worth while to proceed to a careful examination! I was not dead! I
wanted to cry out that I was not dead!
"At what o'clock did he die?" asked the doctor.
"At six this morning," volunteered Simoneau.
A feeling of frenzy and rebellion rose within me, bound as I was in
seemingly iron chains. Oh, for the power of uttering one word, of moving
a single limb!
"This close weather is unhealthy," resumed the doctor; "nothing is more
trying than these early spring days.


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