"To Paris?"
"Yes."
"And from there?"
"It is not decided."
"It was your intention to travel by the night train?"
"Yes."
"Who was to go with you?"
"A friend."
"He is not a friend," Louis exclaimed, "I don't care for your dark looks, mother; I will speak! He has never been my friend. Didn't he rob me—didn't he nearly murder me? And you stand up for him because—because——"
"Hold your tongue!" she cried.