Lupin poured himself out a glass of water and drank it down. Then he took a chair and, calmly:
"Pooh! She'll be all right by to-morrow."
"What do you say?"
"I say that she'll be all right by to-morrow."
"Why?"
"In the first place, because it did not strike me that Mlle. Darcieux felt any very great affection for her father."
"Never mind! Think of it: a father who tries to kill his daughter! A father who, for months on end, repeats his monstrous attempt four, five, six times over again!... Well, isn't that enough to blight a less sensitive soul than Jeanne's for good and all? What a hateful memory!"
"She will forget."
"One does not forget such a thing as that."
"She will forget, doctor, and for a very simple reason...."