"Élise is sixteen," she ventured.
Pierre fell back in his chair, astonished. The words were simple and uncompromising, but the intonation suggested that they were not final.
"Well?" he asked, explosively.
"When are you going to send Élise away to school?"
"To school?" Pierre was struggling with his astonishment.
"Yes." Madame was holding herself to her determination with an effort.
"To school? Baste! She read, she write, she mek ze figure, is it not suffice? Heh?"
"That makes no difference. You promised her father that you would send her away to school."
Pierre looked around apprehensively.
"Shut up! Kip quiet!"