He spoke the words with such despondency that she received an insight into his distress. But her anger with him was too great and especially their natures were too different for her to be touched by it. She concluded:
"No matter, my boy, it's all your fault. If you had not listened to Suzanne...."
He did not reply. The accusation cut into the most sensitive part of a wound which nothing could allay; and he was not the man to seek excuses.
"Come," said his mother.
She took him to another room on the second floor, further than the first from that which Marthe occupied:
"Victor will bring you your bag and serve your meals in here; that will be best. And I will let your wife know."
"Give her this letter, which I got ready for her," he said. "It is only asking for an interview, an explanation. She can't refuse."
***
In this way, in the course of that Tuesday, the Morestal family were once more gathered under the same roof; but in what heart-rending conditions! And how great was the hatred that now divided those beings once united by so warm an affection!