"
The mother and daughter had sat down at our table. I could plainly hear
the click of their scissors as they clipped the lamp shades, which
no doubt required very delicate manipulation, for they did not work
rapidly. I counted the shades one by one as they were laid aside, while
my anxiety grew more and more intense.
The clicking of the scissors was the only noise in the room, so I
concluded that Marguerite had been overcome by fatigue and was dozing.
Twice Simoneau rose, and the torturing thought flashed through me that
he might be taking advantage of her slumbers to touch her hair with his
lips. I hardly knew the man and yet felt sure that he loved my wife. At
last little Dede began to giggle, and her laugh exasperated me.
"Why are you sniggering, you idiot?" asked her mother. "Do you want to
be turned out on the landing? Come, out with it; what makes you laugh
so?"
The child stammered: she had not laughed; she had only coughed, but I
felt certain she had seen Simoneau bending over Marguerite and had felt
amused.
The lamp had been lit when a knock was heard at the door.
"It must be the doctor at last," said the old woman.
It was the doctor; he did not apologize for coming so late, for he had
no doubt ascended many flights of stairs during the day.
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