'Stay where you are, Louisette. Am I the mistress of my own house? Who is it that presumes to give orders here and allows herself to send my guests away? Such behaviour is infamous! We are not living in a slum here!'
'Didn't you hear me, then?' cried Pauline. 'I caught her up there with Lazare. He had her in his arms, and was kissing her!'
Madame Chanteau shrugged her shoulders. All her stored-up bitterness broke out in words of base suspicion.
'They were only playing; where was the harm of it? When he was nursing you in your room, did we ever interfere?'
The young girl's excitement suddenly subsided. She stood quite motionless, pale, astounded at the accusation which was thus launched against her. It was she who was now being arraigned as guilty; her aunt appeared to suspect her of disgraceful conduct.
'What do you mean?' she cried. 'If you had really thought anything wrong you would not have allowed it for a moment!'
'Well, you are not children! But I don't want my son to lead a whole life of misconduct. And you had better leave off harassing those who still remain honest women.'
For a moment Pauline continued silent, with her big pure eyes fixed upon Madame Chanteau, who turned her own away. Then she went up the stairs to her room, saying curtly:
'Very well, it is I who will leave.'