She turned as if she had been struck, and, without answering his greeting, instinctively moved on a few steps as if to fly from him.
"Germinie!"
Jupillon said nothing more than that; he did not follow her, he did not move. She came back to him like a trained beast when his rope is taken off.
"What is it?" said she. "Do you want more money? or do you want to tell me some of your mother's foolish remarks?"
"No, but I am going away," said Jupillon, with a serious face. "I am drafted—and I am going away."
"You are going away?" said she. She seemed as if her mind was not awake.
"Look here, Germinie," Jupillon continued. "I have made you unhappy. I haven't been very kind to you, I know. My cousin's been a little to blame. What do you want?"
"You're going away?" rejoined Germinie, taking his arm. "Don't lie to me—are you going away?"
"I tell you, yes—and it's true. I'm only waiting for marching orders. You have to pay more than two thousand francs for a substitute this year. They say there's going to be a war: however, there's a chance."
As he spoke he was leading Germinie down the street.