"It is not a question of the little Claire; it is a
question of you.
He took me in his arms, as he did the other evening.
"Will you come with me to the little café?'
Shuddering and trembling, I found strength to answer:
"I am afraid; I am afraid of you, Joseph. Why am I afraid of you?"
He held me cradled in his arms. And, disdaining to justify himself, happy perhaps at increasing my terrors, he said to me, in a paternal tone:
"Well, well, since that is the case, I will talk with you again about it to-morrow."
A Rouen newspaper is circulating in town, in
which there is an article that is creating a scandal among the pious. It is a true story, very droll,
and somewhat risqué, which happened lately at Port-
Lançon, a pretty place situated three leagues from
here. And it gains in piquancy from the fact that
everybody knows the personages. Here again is
something for people to talk about, for a few days.
The newspaper was brought to Marianne yesterday,
and at night, after dinner, I read the famous article
aloud. At the first phrases Joseph rose, with much
dignity, very severe and even a little angry. He
declared that he does not like dirty stories, and
that he cannot sit and listen to attacks on religion.
