Hand in hand the boy and the girl went through the loose-hung, plush curtain into the kitchen.
The woman stood rigid beside the table.
"Help me," she whispered beneath her breath. "You—"
She stumbled to her knees. Her head was pressed against the edge of the table. Her hands fumbled over the top of it, the fingers widespread and catching; clutching at whatever they touched.
From the kitchen came the sound of low voices. A knife rattled clatteringly against a plate. Once the girl laughed and her laughter snapped off in a half-smothered sob.
The woman moaned a little.
"Just to watch over him. That's all I ask.—You—across there, just—to—protect—him—"
Her hands went to her throat, the fingers tightening.
"A sign," she implored. "Dieu—that—you—hear—me!"
Her eyes stared about the room, peering frantically from under their heavy lids.