"Why, yes ... why, of course, Suzanne!... I promised her father.... No one has a better right to live in this house.... Philippe's not here, I suppose?"
He raised himself in bed, furious at the mere thought.
"He has not come in," said his wife. "We don't know where he is...."
"That's all right! He'd better not come back!... I've turned him out.... And now I want Suzanne.... She shall nurse me ... she alone, do you understand?..."
"Come, Morestal, you surely wouldn't ask ... It's not possible for Suzanne to ..."
But her husband's features were contracted with such a look of anger that she dared not protest further:
"As you please," she said. "After all, if you think right...."
She consulted Dr. Borel by telephone. He replied that the patient must on no account be thwarted. Moreover, he undertook to see the girl, to point out to her the duty that called her to the Old Mill and to overcome any reluctance on her part.
Dr. Borel himself brought Suzanne to the house at about twelve o'clock. Red with shame, her eyes swollen with tears, she submitted to Mme. Morestal's humiliating reception and took her seat by the old man's bedside.
He gave a sigh of content when he saw her: