She had never opposed her husband like this before, and he looked at her fixedly.
"Your tongue runs too fast, old woman. I don't mind being happy, but I won't be worried."
She shrank into herself again, huddling lazily together on her chair while he finished his bread, rolling the last mouthful over and over to prolong the recreation. The dull room sank to sleep.
"I wanted to know," went on Lise, "what Buteau means to do with regard to me and his child? I haven't worried him much hitherto, but it's time to settle one way or the other."
The two old people uttered not a word. She then questioned the father pointedly.
"As you saw him, he must have mentioned me. What did he say?"
"Nothing. He never opened his lips on the subject. And, in fact, there's nothing to be said. The priest's pestering me to arrange things, as if anything could be arranged so long as the fellow refuses to accept his share."
Lise pondered in great perplexity.
"You think he'll accept some day?"