"To-morrow, my friend," said Frederick, in his turn, to David, as he passed him.
Then Marie and her son entered their apartment, while David ascended to the garret chamber he was to share with André.
Scarcely had he entered his mother's chamber when Frederick threw himself in his mother's arms and cried with bitterness:
"Oh, mother! we were so happy before the arrival of—"
"Not a word more, my child; you are speaking of your father," interrupted Marie. "Embrace me more tenderly than ever; you have need of it, and so have I; but no recriminations of your father."
"My God! mother, you did not hear what he said to M. Bridou?"
"When your father said, 'Frederick will soon be seventeen?'"
"Yes, and that man said to my father, 'It is a good age for us.'"
"I, as well as you, my child, heard his words."
"'A good age for us,'—what does he mean by that, mother?"