“I went to see Doctor Lawrence!” she cried. “I was afraid—It’s true!... There’s going to be a baby!”
She began to shriek with laughter. Claudine seized her by the shoulders, and shook her.
“Be quiet! Be quiet, Andrée! Come upstairs!”
Andrée shook her head.
“No!” she cried. “No! I’m expecting company! Francis is coming! Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! Isn’t it funny! Won’t he be pleased!”
“Hush! Come upstairs!” Claudine repeated, and half dragged her to her feet. She put her arm about her and supported her up the stairs to her own room.
“Lie down!” she said. “I’ll bathe your face in cold water. Try to control yourself, Andrée!”
But Andrée could do nothing but weep and laugh. Claudine sat by her, patting her cold hands and stroking her hair, silent, waiting for her to become tranquil.
The doorbell rang, and Andrée sprang up, suddenly sobered.
“Mother!... It’s Francis! You’ll have to see him!”