No reply.
“Why don’t you speak, you ninny, you?”
“Bonjour, mon ami,”[2] said Julie, scared at his rough tones.
“Bonny Jew!—what’s the rest of it? Bonny Jew! Bonny Jew! Ha, ha! What a funny name!”
Charley caught up his cap and ran into the street to tell Willie Wade:
“There’s a girl in there. Her name’s Bonny Jew. She’s deef, I guess, fur I couldn’t make ’er hear till I hollered loud enough to take ’er head off.”
At night, madame led Julie down to the kitchen, saying, “Katrine, you may let her sleep with you,” and left her there.
Katrine’s face flushed scarlet, and her mild eyes flashed as they never flashed before. Was not France at that very hour making war upon her countrymen? Were not all French, then, her enemies? She took up the lamp and strode toward her chamber. Julie, afraid to be left in the dark, followed after. The door was locked in her face.
Madame coming into the basement for a glass of water, late in the evening, stumbled over the child lying asleep on the hall floor, just outside of Katrine’s room. She tried the door, and finding it fastened, called through the keyhole: “Katrine! Katrine!”