“Parents’ love for their children.”
But Jules shook his head again:
“Parents’ love is ordinary selfishness. Children are a part of their parents, who only love themselves when they love their children.”
“Jules!” cried Amélie. “Your remarks are always much too decided. You know I don’t like it: you are much too young to talk like that. One would think you knew everything!”
The boy was silent.
“And I always say that we never know anything. We never know anything, don’t you agree, Cecile? I, at least, never know anything, never....”
She looked round the room absently. Her fingers smoothed the fringe of her chair, tidying. Cecile put her arm softly round Jules’ neck.
2
It was Quaerts’ turn to sit out from the card-table; and, though Dolf pressed him to go on playing, he rose: