Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/301

cover the cost of the funeral, that was fixed for the next day.

They both got in late at night. The neighbor who had been watching tried to make Jacques eat a little.

“Yes,” said he, “I will; I am very cold, and I shall need a little strength for my work to-night.”

The neighbor and the doctor did not understand him.

Jacques sat down at the table, and eat a few mouthfuls so hurriedly that he was almost choked. Then he asked for a drink; but on lifting his glass to his lips he let it fall. The glass, which broke on the floor, had awakened in the artist’s mind a recollection which itself revived his momentarily dulled pain. The day on which Francine had called on him for the first time she had fallen ill, and he had given her to drink out of this glass. Later, when they were living together, they had regarded it as a love-token.

During his rare moments of wealth the artist would buy for his love one or two bottles of the strengthening wine prescribed for her, and it was from this glass that Francine used to sip the liquid whence her love drew a charming gaiety.

Jacques remained for more than half an hour staring without uttering a word at the scattered fragments of this frail and cherished token. It seemed to him that his heart was also broken, and that he could feel the fragments tearing his breast. When he had recovered himself, he picked up the pieces of glass and placed them in a drawer. Then he asked the neighbor to fetch him two candles, and to send up a bucket of water by the porter.

“Do not go away,” said he to the doctor, who had no intention of doing so; “I shall want you presently.”

The water and the candles were brought and the two friends left alone.

“What do you want to do?” asked the doctor, watching