"Why? Why?"
"For her sake," said Antoinette—(she pointed to her mother).—"She is still with us. Think … after all that she has suffered for our sake, we must spare her the crowning sorrow, that of seeing us die in misery…. Ah!" (she went on emphatically)…. "And then, we must not give way. I will not! I refuse to give in. You must, you shall be happy, some day!"
"Never!"
"Yes. You shall be happy. We have had too much unhappiness. A change will come: it must. You shall live your life. You shall have children, you shall be happy, you shall, you shall!"
"How are we to live? We cannot do it…."
"We can. What is it, after all? We have to live somehow until you can earn your living. I will see to that. You will see: I'll do it. Ah! If only mother had let me do it, as I could have done…."
"What will you do? I will not have you degrading yourself. You could not do it."
"I can…. And there is nothing humiliating in working for one's living—provided it be honest work. Don't you worry about it, please. You will see, everything will come right. You shall be happy, we shall be happy: dear Olivier, she will be happy through us…."
The two children were the only mourners at their mother's grave. By common consent they agreed not to tell the Poyets: the Poyets had ceased to exist for them: they had been too cruel to their mother: they had helped her to her death. And, when the housekeeper asked them if they had no other relations, they replied:
"No. Nobody."