"Oh, yes; you go running about the streets, leaving me here alone to fret and fume!" interrupted the woman furiously.
"But I was scarcely gone an hour," protested the girl.
"And you hoped to find me dead on your return, eh?"
"Heavens! how can you think such a thing!" sobbed Mariette.
"Oh! yes; you may whine now. But I am not your dupe! You have had enough of me; and the day when I am screwed down in my coffin will be a day of rejoicing for you—and so will it be for me, too—Oh! my God! this is too much agony," she groaned, pressing her thin hand to her breast.
Mariette wiped away the tears drawn by this harsh sarcasm, and approaching the bed, said sweetly: "You had such a bad night that I thought you might sleep a little in my absence."
"Oh! yes—you leave me here alone, to die like a dog, while you run about the streets."
"I was obliged to go out; but Madame Justin promised—"
"I had rather see death itself than that creature," interrupted the sick woman angrily, "and you take every opportunity to send her to me."
A bitter smile flitted over the girl's lips; but she passed this new sarcasm unnoticed and said gently: "Shall I put fresh bandages on your arm?"