“It’s not your ten thousand francs you’ve come for, I suppose? There are still two months before the time they become due. And in two months’ time we will pay them to you, sir. We don’t die to get out of our engagements.”
This superb assurance completely overwhelmed Monsieur Josserand. However, Madame Josserand continued dumbfounding her son-in-law by the most extraordinary declarations, without allowing him time to speak.
“You’re by no means smart, sir. When you’ve made Berthe ill, you’ll have to call in the doctor, and that will occasion some expense at the chemist’s, and it will still be you who’ll have to pay. A little while ago, I went off, when I saw that you were bent on making a fool of yourself. Do as you like! Beat your wife, my maternal heart is easy, for God is watching, and retribution is never long in coming!”
At length Auguste was able to state his grievances. He returned to the constant goings-out, the dresses, and was even so bold as to condemn the way in which Berthe had been brought up. Madame Josserand listened to him with an air of supreme contempt. Then, when he had finished, she retorted:
“What you say is so absurd that it does not deserve an answer, my dear fellow! I’ve my conscience, and that suffices me. A man to whom I confided an angel! I’ll have nothing more to do with the matter, as I’m insulted. Settle it between yourselves.”
“But your daughter will end by deceiving me, madame!” exclaimed Auguste, again overcome with passion.
Madame Josserand, who was going off, turned round, and looked him full in the face.
“You’re doing all you can to bring such a thing about, sir.”
And she retired into her room with the dignity of a colossal triple-breasted Ceres draped in white.
The father kept Auguste a few minutes longer. He was conciliatory, giving him to understand that with women it was best to put up with everything, and finally sent him off calmed and resolved to forgive. But when the poor old man found himself alone again in the dining-room, seated in front of his little lamp, he burst into tears. It was all over; there was no longer any happiness; he would never have time enough of a night to address sufficient wrappers to enable him to assist his daughter clandestinely. The thought that his child might run into debt crushed him like some personal fault. And he felt ill; he had just received another blow; strength would fail him one of those nights. At length, restraining his tears, he painfully recommenced his work.