Beauchenes, but there was a malicious twinkle in his little eyes, and it
was evident that he took pleasure in recapitulating the employer's
arguments against excessive prolificness. He pretended to get angry and
to reproach the Moineauds for their ten wretched children--the boys fated
to become food for powder, the girls always liable to misfortune. And he
gave the woman to understand that it was her own fault if she was in
distress; for people with a tribe of children about them could never
become rich. And the poor creature sadly answered that he was quite
right, but that no idea of becoming rich could ever have entered their
heads. Moineaud knew well enough that he would never be a cabinet
minister, and so it was all the same to them how many children they might
have on their hands. Indeed, a number proved a help when the youngsters
grew old enough to go out to work.

Beauchene had become silent and slowly paced the room. A slight chill, a
feeling of uneasiness was springing up, and so Constance made haste to
inquire: "Well, my good woman, what is it I can do for you?"

"_Mon Dieu_, madame, it worries me; it's something which Moineaud didn't
dare to ask of Monsieur Beauchene. For my part I hoped to find you alone
and beg you to intercede for us. The fact is we should be very, very
grateful if our little Victor could only be taken on at the works."

"But he is only fifteen," exclaimed Beauchene. "You must wait till he's
sixteen. The law is strict."

"No doubt. Only one might perhaps just tell a little fib. It would be
rendering us such a service--"

"No, it is impossible."