the firing of guns. There were pretty times in '48, were there not? You
remember our uncle Gradelle, the worthy man, showing us his books for
that year? He lost more than six thousand francs. Now that we have got
the Empire, however, everything prospers. We sell our goods readily
enough. You can't deny it. Well, then, what is it that you want? How
will you be better off when you have shot everybody?"

She took her stand in front of the little night-table, crossed her arms
over her breast, and fixed her eyes upon Quenu, who had shuffled himself
beneath the bed-clothes, almost out of sight. He attempted to explain
what it was that his friends wanted, but he got quite confused in his
endeavours to summarise Florent's and Charvet's political and social
systems; and could only talk about the disregard shown to principles,
the accession of the democracy to power, and the regeneration of
society, in such a strange tangled way that Lisa shrugged her shoulders,
quite unable to understand him. At last, however, he extricated himself
from his difficulties by declaring that the Empire was the reign of
licentiousness, swindling finance, and highway robbery. And, recalling
an expression of Logre's he added: "We are the prey of a band of
adventurers, who are pillaging, violating, and assassinating France.
We'll have no more of them."

Lisa, however, still shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, and is that all you have got to say?" she asked with perfect
coolness. "What has all that got to do with me? Even supposing it were
true, what then? Have I ever advised you to practise dishonest courses?
Have I ever prompted you to dishonour your acceptances, or cheat your
customers, or pile up money by fraudulent practices? Really, you'll end
by making me quite angry! We are honest folks, and we don't pillage or