Berthe, on her side, sobbed louder than ever, and joined her father in his entreaties.
“Enough, mamma, do as papa asks. Good heavens! how miserable I am to be the cause of all these quarrels! I would sooner leave you all, and go and die somewhere.”
Then Madame Josserand deliberately put the question to the uncle.
“Will you, yes or no, give the fifty thousand francs, so that your niece may hold her head up?”
Regularly scared, he tried to go into explanations.
“Listen a moment. I found Gueulin and Fifi together. What could I do? I was obliged to marry them. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Will you, yes or no, give the dowry you promised?” repeated she furiously.
He wavered, his intoxication increased to such a pitch that he could scarcely find words to utter:
“Can’t, word of honor!—Completely ruined. Otherwise, at once—Candidly you know——”
She interrupted him with a terrible gesture, and declared: