"Oh, Adolphe!"

"What can I do for you, you know? Suppose I was to go down to my
mother and tell her that I had decided to keep you myself; what would
come of it? Look at it in that light, Marie."

"She could not turn you out--you her own son!"

"But she would turn you out; and deuced quick, too, I can assure you
of that; I can, upon my honour."

"I should not care that," and she made a motion with her hand to show
how indifferent she would be to such treatment as regarded herself.
"Not that--; if I still had the promise of your love."

"But what would you do?"

"I would work. There are other houses beside that one," and she
pointed to the slate roof of the Bauche establishment.

"And for me--I should not have a penny in the world," said the young
man.

She came up to him and took his right hand between both of hers and
pressed it warmly, oh, so warmly. "You would have my love," said
she; "my deepest, warmest best heart's love should want nothing more,
nothing on earth, if I could still have yours." And she leaned
against his shoulder and looked with all her eyes into his face.

"But, Marie, that's nonsense, you know."