can," he said.

"Come, my dear," the doctor said to Rosalie. "We will go and see your
father."

Charley's eyes had fastened on the bottles avidly. As Rosalie turned to
bid him good-bye, he said to her, almost hoarsely: "Take the tray back to
Madame Dauphin--please."

She flashed a glance of inquiry at him. She was puzzled by the fire in
his eyes. With her soul in her face as she lifted the tray, out of the
warm-beating life in her, she said in a low tone:

"It is good to live, isn't it?"

He nodded and smiled, and the trouble slowly passed from his eyes. The
woman in her had conquered his enemy.




CHAPTER XXXV

THE COMING OF MAXIMILIAN COUR AND ANOTHER

"It is good to live, isn't it?" In the autumn weather when the air drank
like wine, it seemed so indeed, even to Charley, who worked all day in
his shop, his door wide open to the sunlight, and sat up half the night
with Narcisse Dauphin, sometimes even taking a turn at the cradle of the
twins, while madame sat beside her husband's bed.