“Why, no, madame.”
“It is because I expect to pass the winter with you and Juliette.”
“Impossible, my dear madame.”
“What do you mean by impossible?”
“I made a mistake; I meant to say, you will never come.”
“Never, do you say?”
“You will never live in my house with your grandchild.”
“You are joking, monsieur.”
“No, I am speaking most seriously. You think Juliette is happy, she is not; we agree in nothing, nor about anything. If you should be a third party in our household, what would our unhappiness be then?”
“Is it true, my Juliette, that you are unhappy?” asked my grandmother.