On entering the house he shouted: “Wife, warm up something for the little one. She is Bruno’s best friend.”
“Say not so, Jean, say not so.”
“Why, you love him, do you not?”
“Oh, if—but——”
“I owe him a favor. And I will save him if I can. You eat something, change your clothing, and then we will start.”
He had seen the condition of her garments, and out of solicitude for her had suggested that she discard them for dry ones.
“But why should I change my clothing? At the end of a quarter of an hour I shall be as wet as ever.”
“No. You will see. But we must not waste time. Make haste, child.—Wife, give her some dry clothing.”
Sidonie submitted. Jean’s wife, a bright, alert little woman, with large brown eyes and a delicate skin, contrasted strongly with her husband. “Beauty and the Beast” people called them. Jeanne appeared surprisingly happy. There was not a wrinkle on her brow, and her frank, honest eyes and smiling, tender mouth spoke well for her husband’s love and care.
After donning some warm, dry clothing Sidonie ate with a keen relish the homely little repast Jeanne had prepared, for nothing had she eaten since morning.