Old Madame Etchepare. And all that would take—how long?
La Bouzole. If Monsieur Claudet were to appeal, it might last two years.
Old Madame Etchepare. It isn't possible! Isn't the right on my side?
La Bouzole. My poor woman, it's not enough to have the right on your side—you must have the law on your side too.
Old Madame Etchepare. I understand. Justice is a thing we poor people can know only when it strikes us down. We can know it only by the harm it does us. Well—we must go away—it doesn't matter where—and I shan't regret it; people insult us; they call out to us as they pass. Etchepare wouldn't put up with that.
La Bouzole. In that respect the law protects you. Register a complaint and those who insult you will be prosecuted.
Old Madame Etchepare. I don't think so. I have already registered a complaint, as you say, but they've done nothing to the man who injured us. So he goes on.
La Bouzole. Is he an inhabitant of your commune?
Old Madame Etchepare. Yes. A neighbor, a friend of Monsieur Mondoubleau, the deputy. Labastide.
La Bouzole. Good. I will do what I can, I promise you.