"But you are losing your senses, my dear," exclaimed Francois, while
Thomas and Antoine again grew merry. "We were only urging a question of
humanity, father and I, for we respect and love justice as much as you
do."

"There's no question of humanity, but simply one of justice. What is just
and right is just and right, and you cannot alter it."

Then, as Guillaume made a further attempt to state his views and win her
over to them, she rose trembling, in such a passion that she could
scarcely stammer: "No, no, you are all too cruel, you only want to grieve
me. I prefer to go up into my own room."

At this Mere-Grand vainly sought to restrain her. "My child, my child!"
said she, "reflect a moment; this is very wrong, you will deeply regret
it."

"No, no; you are not just, and I suffer too much."

Then she wildly rushed upstairs to her room overhead.

Consternation followed. Scenes of a similar character had occasionally
occurred before, but there had never been so serious a one. Guillaume
immediately admitted that he had done wrong in laughing at her, for she
could not bear irony. Then he told Pierre that in her childhood and youth
she had been subject to terrible attacks of passion whenever she
witnessed or heard of any act of injustice. As she herself explained,
these attacks would come upon her with irresistible force, transporting
her to such a point that she would sometimes fall upon the floor and
rave. Even nowadays she proved quarrelsome and obstinate whenever certain