"When have you ever known madame to come home at half-past six,
monsieur?"

"Very well; all the better; it will give me time to change my things, for
I am very warm."

The servant looked at him with angry and contemptuous pity. "Oh, I can
see that well enough," she grumbled. "You are covered with perspiration,
monsieur. I suppose you walked quickly and carried the child, and only to
have to wait until half-past seven, perhaps, for madame. I have made up
my mind not to have dinner ready on time. I shall get it for eight
o'clock, and if, you have to wait, I cannot help it; roast meat ought not
to be burnt!"

Monsieur Parent pretended not to hear, but went into his own room, and as
soon as he got in, locked the door, so as to be alone, quite alone. He
was so used now to being abused and badly treated that he never thought
himself safe except when he was locked in.

What could he do? To get rid of Julie seemed to him such a formidable
thing to do that he hardly ventured to think of it, but it was just as
impossible to uphold her against his wife, and before another month the
situation would become unbearable between the two. He remained sitting
there, with his arms hanging down, vaguely trying to discover some means
to set matters straight, but without success. He said to himself: "It is
lucky that I have George; without him I should-be very miserable."

Just then the clock struck seven, and he started up. Seven o'clock, and
he had not even changed his clothes. Nervous and breathless, he
undressed, put on a clean shirt, hastily finished his toilet, as if he