"How you have changed!" she said, in a voice full of pity.
"A few little disappointments. . . . However, that's over. . . . Tell me, is Geneviève in?"
She flew at him, in a sudden rage:
"You leave her alone, do you hear? Geneviève? You want to see Geneviève, to take her back? Ah, this time I shall not let her out of my sight! She came back tired, white as a sheet, nervous; and the color has hardly yet returned to her cheeks. You shall leave her alone, I swear you shall."
He pressed his hand hard on the old woman's shoulder:
"I will—do you understand?—I will speak to her."
"No."
"I mean to speak to her."
"No."
He pushed her about. She drew herself up and, crossing her arms: