"I certainly did, monsieur; and as it was true, I could make no other answer."
"At first, I was satisfied with that answer; and I left you; but later, other ideas occurred to me, and I called on you again. I found the same difficulty in speaking to you, for you seemed to shun me, and to display the greatest persistency in avoiding my presence."
"Why should I have desired it, monsieur? For a long time we had ceased to have anything to say to each other."
"Pardon me, madame; I had certain questions to ask you concerning the particulars of the child's death; and those questions seemed to annoy you exceedingly, for only with the very greatest difficulty did I succeed in obtaining the answers I desired."
"There are subjects which it is painful to revive; that was one of them; it could not fail to renew my grief."
"Oh! as for your grief, madame, you will pardon me if I refuse to believe in it. I think that maternal love does not fill a very large place in your heart."
"Why do you think that, monsieur?"
"Because, if it were otherwise, you would have been the first to talk to me about our son, to give me a thousand and one details of his birth and death. Whereas, on the contrary, your answers on those subjects were so short and sharp that it was easy to see that you were in a hurry to put an end to the interview."
"Did you expect me to give you very many details of the life of a child that lived three months?"
"A mother would have found them."