That night, feeling entirely justified, she abandoned him.
"Mommy," the children shouted. They ran to her and hugged her. They had missed her, and had resented the disturbance in their routine. "Mommy!" They danced and shouted, "Mommy! Mommy, Mommy!"
When it was their bed time, he left her alone with them. He said good night to them himself, kissed them and squeezed her shoulder. "It's good to have you home again!" he said. His eyes filled with tears and he hurried from the room.
"Tell us a story, Mommy." It was the custom of the household.
There were tears in her eyes and her voice trembled a little, but she said in what seemed to them a perfect narrative style:
"Once upon a time there were two very good and loving children who found that it was their duty to denounce their father to the state and to see him publicly flogged to death. You must listen very carefully to this," she said, "both of you.
"At first, they thought that this was a very sad duty...."