With a movement of the arm he gave it a slight push, so that it
fell on the floor and was smashed. Then he laid down the dead
man's hand and bound a handkerchief round his chin.
Not till then did the others understand what had happened. "Dead?
Is he dead, doctor? Monsieur Alphonse dead?"
"Heart disease," answered the doctor.
One came running with water, another with vinegar. Amid laughter
and noise, the balls could be heard cannoning on the inner
billiard-table.
"Hush!" some one whispered. "Hush!" was repeated; and the silence
spread in wider and wider circles round the corpse, until all was
quite still.
"Come and lend a hand," said the doctor.
The dead man was lifted up; they laid him on a sofa in a corner of
the room, and the nearest gas-jets were put out.
Madame Virginie was still standing up; her face was chalk-white,
and she held her little soft hand pressed against her breast. They
carried him right past the buffet. The doctor had seized him under
the back, so that his waistcoat slipped up and a piece of his fine
white shirt appeared.
She followed with her eyes the slender, supple limbs she knew so
well, and continued to stare towards the dark corner.
Most of the guests went away in silence. A couple of young men
entered noisily from the street; a waiter ran towards them and
said a few words. They glanced towards the corner, buttoned their
coats, and plunged out again into the fog.
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