The master still held himself in hand:
“What do you mean?”
Thérèse replied:
“It seems to me clear enough....”
M. Raindal got up and walked around the table breaking a toothpick into shreds in his hands.
“Very well! I promised you that I would leave you free.... You are free.... I do not go back on it....” Then he raised his voice and went on. “Nevertheless, sapristi! it is impossible for me to put up with your insinuations.... Mme. Chambannes is a lady for whom I profess the greatest sympathy, and I am not afraid of acknowledging it, the most lively regard. I can not allow such abominable and unfounded charges to pass unchallenged.” He mastered himself with a supreme effort and added, a little more gently:
“I beg you both, you and your mother, to speak out frankly.... What is it you have against Mme. Chambannes?”
Silence fell upon them. Brigitte, frightened in this atmosphere which she felt was heavy with the spirit of contention, had promptly dashed back to the kitchen. On both sides, they were holding their fury in leash, holding back the words of abuse which rebelled, ready to spring. “Well!” the master insisted. “I am waiting for your explanations ... for yours, Thérèse, since your mother does not answer me.”
Mlle. Raindal replied seriously:
“Father, it is well understood, is it not, that we have no intention of hurting you, nor of commenting upon your friendships, that we are only speaking for your own good and for our own?...”