Mme Burle looked
at him attentively.
"Is it the captain personally whom you want to see?" she said at last.
"Yes," he answered.
"Can I not tell him what you have to say?"
"No."
She did not insist but remained standing without taking her eyes off the
major, who did not seem able to make up his mind to leave. Finally in a
fresh burst of rage he exclaimed with an oath: "It can't be helped. As I
am here you may as well know--after all, it is, perhaps, best."
He sat down before the chimney piece, stretching out his muddy boots as
if a bright fire had been burning. Mme Burle was about to resume her own
seat when she remarked that Charles, overcome by fatigue, had dropped
his head between the open pages of his dictionary. The arrival of
the major had at first interested him, but, seeing that he remained
unnoticed, he had been unable to struggle against his sleepiness. His
grandmother turned toward the table to slap his frail little hands,
whitening in the lamplight, when Laguitte stopped her.
"No--no!" he said. "Let the poor little man sleep. I haven't got
anything funny to say. There's no need for him to hear me."
The old lady sat down in her armchair; deep silence reigned, and they
looked at one another.
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