“Mother, for Christ’s sake, don’t speak like that!”
“You see, Paul, it has really not been my fault,” she said, looking up at him with a pleading expression, “I never go with a light into the stables.”
“But who says so?”
“Your father says that it is all my fault and told me to go to the devil. But don’t harm him, Paul,” she entreated, anxiously, as she saw him flying into a passion; “don’t interfere with him again, he suffers such great pain.”
“The doctor is coming in an hour; I have sent for him already.”
“Go to your father, Paul, and comfort him; you see, I should like to go myself, but he has turned me out,” and, crouching down again, she muttered to herself,
“He has turned me out—out.”