Youthful vigour ultimately prevailed.

After a high fever that lasted one day and two nights, Andre''s breathing finally steadied. The doctor declared that he had made it through the most dangerous stage.

Edith knew nothing about household chores, let alone her anxious state of mind, so most of the care for the patient was left to Margot, while worried Aunt Adele acted as her daughter''s assistant.

Once, Edith mustered up the courage to ask Margot to teach her how to help out.

As she turned Andre''s body over to help scrub his upper body, she shyly averted her gaze.

Even in his most unconscious state, this handsome young man never uttered a delirious word; his bushy eyebrows furrowed in pain, his lips still pursed tight in coma, letting out only occasionally a muffled groan, which would make one''s heart ache with pity.

Day by day, rosy flush climbed back onto Andre''s fresh and tender cheeks.

"Thank goodness!" Philippe breathed a deep sigh of relief upon seeing his dear friend brought through.

His heart was so full of joy that he actually no longer painted pictures every day of Dumouriez''s daily life in hell with his words.

And thus, on a spring afternoon, as Andre stirred from his slumber, the first sight that greeted him was the dainty countenance of his beloved, clad in a lily-white morning gown, standing by his bedside.

"Am I in paradise?" murmured the young man.

She bent down to him.

To ensure the patient''s rest was not disturbed, the curtains before the blinds were left only with a slit, allowing a soft ray of sunlight to fall upon Edith''s side face.

Everything unfolded in perfect harmony.

Their lips entwined - a kiss devoid of any carnal desires, two pure angels snuggling up to each other.

"I love you!" he said so firmly, gazing into her with his sparkling blue eyes the moment they parted.

She laughed and wept, upbraiding him