“Well, but Pierre. What can we do about Pierre?”
Jean answered:
“We will find some plan! You cannot live with him any longer.”
At the thought of her elder son she was convulsed with terror.
“No, I cannot; no, no!” And throwing herself on Jean’s breast she cried in distress of mind:
“Save me from him, you, my little one. Save me; do something—I don’t know what. Think of something. Save me.”
“Yes, mother, I will think of something.”
“And at once. You must, this minute. Do not leave me. I am so afraid of him—so afraid.”
“Yes, yes; I will hit on some plan. I promise you I will.”
“But at once; quick, quick! You cannot imagine what I feel when I see him.”