"You are entirely too good-natured, M. Olivier. Let me at least spoil his pretty face with my nails, the brigand."
"Nonsense! He's much more stupid than wicked."
"He's both, M. Olivier, he's both, I tell you!"
"But how is my uncle this morning? I went out so early that he was still asleep, and I didn't like to wake him."
"He is feeling better, for he and I just had a fine dispute about his monster. And then your return, why, it is worth more to him than all the medicines in the world, and when I think that but for you that frightful Bouffard might have turned us out in three or four days! And Heaven knows that our belongings wouldn't have brought much, for our six tablespoons and the commander's watch went when he was ill three years ago."
"My good Mother Barbançon, don't talk of that, or you will drive me mad, for when my furlough is over I shall not be here, and what happened to-day may happen again at any time. But I won't even think of it. It is too terrible!"
The commander's bell rang, and on hearing the sound the housekeeper said to the young man, whose face wore an almost heart-broken expression:
"That is the commander ringing. For heaven's sake don't look so sad, M. Olivier; he will be sure to suspect something."
"You needn't be afraid of that. But, by the way, Gerald is sure to call this morning. You must let him in."
"All right, M. Olivier. Go to the commander at once, and I will soon have your breakfast ready. Dear me, M. Olivier," she continued, with a sigh, "can you be content with—"