'Poor little thing!' Pauline murmured. 'I am knitting her some socks. You must bring her to see me oftener; there is always milk here, and she might have a few spoonfuls of gruel. I will go and see your mother, and I'll try to frighten her, as she still behaves unkindly to you.'
The girl took up her daughter again, while Pauline began to prepare a parcel.
However, Abbé Horteur now appeared upon the terrace.
'Here come Monsieur Lazare and the Doctor,' he announced.
At the same moment they heard the wheels of the gig, and while Martin, the ex-sailor with the wooden leg, was leading the horse to the stable, Cazenove came round from the yard, crying:
'I am bringing you back the rake who stopped away from home all night. You won't be very hard on him, I hope!'
Lazare now appeared, smiling feebly. He was quickly ageing; his shoulders were bent and his face was cadaverous, devastated by the mental anguish which was destroying him. He was no doubt on the point of explaining the reason of his delay when the window of the first floor, which had remained open, was violently closed.
'Louise hasn't quite finished dressing yet,' Pauline explained. 'She will be down in a minute or two.'
They all looked at one another, and there was a feeling of embarrassment. That angry banging of the window portended a quarrel. After taking a step or two towards the stairs, Lazare checked himself and determined to wait where he was. He kissed his father and little Paul; and then, to conceal his disquietude, he tackled his cousin, saying to her in a querulous voice:
'Rid us of all this vermin! You know I can't bear to see them anywhere near me.'