"The fact is ... it's like this ... Suzanne is here, in your father's room.... He insisted on her coming...."
"Oh!" he said. "Is Suzanne here?"
"Where would you have her go? She has no one left. Who knows when Jorancé will be out of prison? And, besides, will he ever forgive her?"
He stood wrapped in thought and asked:
"Has Marthe met her?"
"There was a terrible scene between them. I found Suzanne with her face streaming with blood, all over scratches."
"Oh, the poor things!" he murmured. "The poor things!..."
His head fell; and, presently, she saw that he was weeping.
As she had no word of consolation to offer him, she turned round and walked to the drawing-room, where she shifted the furniture so as to have the satisfaction of putting it back in its place. She tried to find a pretext to utter her resentment. When Philippe sat down at the table, she showed him the newspapers: