"I refuse to stay here another hour!" retorted Marthe, heedless of the presence of the doctor and the servants. "You can choose between Suzanne and me...."
"My husband promised ..."
"Very well. As you choose that woman, I am going."
She opened the drawers of the chest and flung the dresses and linen out promiscuously. With an abrupt movement, she pulled the cloth from the table. All the knicknacks fell to the floor.
Dr. Borel tried to argue with her:
"This is all very well, but where are you going?"
"To Paris. My boys will come to me there."
"But haven't you seen the papers? The position is growing more serious every hour. The frontier-corps are being mobilized. Are you sure of getting through?"
"I am going," she said.