It was Perine's shuffling steps upon the stairs,
and she was by no means sure how Jean would receive such an early
visitor. Moreover, she did not care that he should be disturbed, and she
went hastily to the door to moderate the noise of the girl's awkward
entry. For a wonder no word or look of hers could do this. Perine, who
generally was obedient to her smallest sign, was in a state of
uncontrollable excitement; she fled to Marie's arms, buried her rough
head there, sobbed her loudest, and presently, in the thick of
incoherent lamentations, pulled down her dress, and showed a heavy
bruise on her shoulder. Then she sobbed again, and implored Madame
Didier not to let them beat her.
"Come, come, come!" said Marie reassuringly, "tell me a little more
about this, and don't be a baby, Perine. Remember that you are a big
girl. No one will come here to beat you; if they did, good M. Plon would
not let them come up the stairs. Tell me who did it?"
She sat down on the stool as she spoke, and let the poor clumsy creature
rest on her knee.
"The man, the bad man!" howled Perine.
"That I hear; but what were you doing to make any one so cruel?"
"Perine only looking at pretty bright figures, mother; so pretty with
the light on them. 7639."
"What is she talking about?" said Madame Didier, puzzled, "7639?"
"Yes, yes," said the girl eagerly, and then she broke off again into her
lamentations, which lasted until Marie had bathed her hurt, and soothed
her by degrees.
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