But when she proposed to take her to the _cremerie_,
Perine began to wail again, and it was evident that something had so
terrified her, that it would be cruelty to force her out into the
streets. Every now and then she let drop another word or two on the
subject of her fright; her poor disconnected brain seemed unable to
grasp anything as a whole; something would float across it and be lost.
Marie had grown apt at gathering together these cobweb strands, and
disentangling them, but now even her ingenuity was at fault, and the
number was the only point which stood out clearly from wavering words
about a man and a box. She gathered at last that somewhere or other this
number with the light shining on it had attracted Perine's attention,
that she went to look, and that a man pushed her away with a blow, and
with threats which had been strong enough to send her terrified from the
spot. Evidently she scarcely felt secure in her present quarters, and
piteously implored Marie not to suffer him to come. Marie soothed her,
and hoped that Jean's compassion might be as strong as her own. Had she
not been taken up with Perine, she would have more quickly caught the
impatient scratching like a mouse in the wainscot, with which he
summoned her.
He made signs that he must speak, and with some difficulty she got
Perine into the landing, thrusting into her hands the bread which would
have been her own portion.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229