'Do not implore the Cross!' cried the priest in wild anger. 'Jesus lived chastely, and it was that which enabled Him to die.'
At that same moment Madame Faujas came into the room, carrying on her arm a big provision basket. She put it down at once on seeing her son so wrathful, and threw her arms around him.
'Ovide, my child, calm yourself,' she said, as she caressed him.
Then, turning upon the cowering Marthe an annihilating glance, she cried:
'Can you never leave him at peace? Are you not ashamed of yourself? Go downstairs; it is quite impossible for you to remain here. This is no place for such as you!'
Marthe did not move. Madame Faujas had to lift her up and push her towards the door. The old woman stormed at her, charging her with having waited till she had gone out, and making her promise that she would never again come upstairs to make such scenes. And finally she banged the door violently behind her.
Marthe went on, reeling down the stairs. She had ceased sobbing, and kept repeating to herself:
'François will come back again; François will turn them all out into the street.'