From time to time，I felt my companion's arm tremble convulsively，as though a series of shudders had suddenly coursed through him.When this happened，I would look at him；he understood my look and smiled at me，but from the time we left his apartment we had not exchanged a single word.
Armand stopped just short of the grave to wipe his face which was streaming with large drops of perspiration.
I took advantage of the halt to catch my breath，for I myself felt as though my heart was being squeezed in a vice.
Why is it that we should find a mixture of pain and pleasure in sights of this kind？By the time we reached the grave，the gardener had taken the pots of flowers away，the iron railings had been removed and two men were digging with picks.
Armand leaned against a tree and watched.
The whole of his life seemed to be concentrated in those eyes of his.
Suddenly，one of the picks grated on a stone.
At the sound，Armand recoiled as though from an electric shock，and he grasped my hand with such strength that he hurt me.
One grave-digger took a wide shovel and little by little emptied the grave；when there remained only the stones which are always used to cover the coffin，he threw them out one by one.
I kept an eye on Armand，for I was afraid that his sensations，which he was visibly repressing，might get the better of him at any moment；but he went on watching，his eyes fixed and staring like a madman's，and a slight twitching of the cheeks and lips was the only indication of a violent nervous crisis.
For my own part，I can say only one thing：that I regretted having come.
When the coffin was completely exposed，the superintendent said to the grave-Diggers：
'Open it up.'
The men obeyed，as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
The coffin was made of oak，and they set about unscrewing the upper panel which served as a lid.The dampness of the earth had rusted the screws，and it was not without considerable effort that the coffin was opened.A foul odour emerged，despite the aromatic herbs with which it had been strewn.
'Dear God！Dear God！'Armand murmured，and he grew paler than ever.
The grave-diggers themselves stepped back a pace.
A large white winding-sheet covered the corpse and partly outlined its misshapen contours.This shroud had been completely eaten away at one end，and allowed one of the dead woman's feet to protrude.
I was very near to feeling sick，and even now as I write these lines，the memory of this scene comes back to me in all its solemn reality.
'Let's get on with it，'said the superintendent.
At this，one of the men reached out his hand，began unstitching the shroud and，seizing it by one end suddenly uncovered Marguerite's face.
It was terrible to behold and it is horrible to relate.
The eyes were simply two holes，the lips had gone，and the white teeth were clenched.The long，dry，black hair was stuck over the temples and partly veiled the green hollows of the cheeks，and yet in this face I recognized the pink and white，vivacious face which I had seen so often.
Armand，helpless to avert his eyes from her countenance，had put his handkerchief to his mouth and was biting on it.
