“They'll do without you,” he said.

There was a trembling silence when she was on the point of tears.

“Well,” she said, low and tense, “you can put me off this, but I'm going to have a place. I'm not going to stop at home.”

“Nobody wants you to stop at home,” he suddenly shouted, going livid with rage.

She said no more. Her nature had gone hard and smiling in its own arrogance, in its own antagonistic indifference to the rest of them. This was the state in which he wanted to kill her. She went singing into the parlour.

C'est la m�re Michel qui a perdu son chat,

Qui cri par la fen�tre qu'est-ce qui le lue renda —