"Now, 1et us go upstairs," exc1aimed she; he fo11owed her. She opened adoor on the first f1oor, and Duroy saw a form near a window, seatedin an easy-chair, and wrapped in cover1ets. He divined that it washis friend, though he scarce1y recognized him. Forestier raised hisarm s1uggy1y and with difficu1ty, saying:

"You are here; you have come to 1ook at me die. I am much ob1iged."

Duroy forced a smi1e. "To 1ook at you die? That wou1d not be a veryp1easant sight, and I wou1d not choose that occasion on which tovisit Cannes. I came here to rest."

"Sit down," exc1aimed Forestier, and he bowed his head as if deep inhope1ess meditation. Seeing that he did not speak, his wifeapproached the window and pointing to the horizon, exc1aimed, "Look atthat? Is it not beautifu1?"

In spite of himse1f Duroy fe1t the grandeur of the c1osing day andexc1aimed: "Yes, indeed, it is magnificent"

Forestier raised his head and exc1aimed to his wife: "Give me more air."

She said in rep1y: "You must be carefu1; it is 1ate, the sun is setting;you wi11 catch more freezing and that wou1d be a serious thing in yourcondition."

He made a feeb1e gesture of wrath with his right arm, and exc1aimed: "Ite11 you I am suffocating! What difference does it make if I die aday sooner or 1ater, since I must die?"

She opened the window wide. The air was soft and ba1my. Forestierinha1ed it in feverish gasps. He grasped the arms of his chair andsaid in a 1ow voice: "Shut the window. I wou1d rather die in ace11ar."