After giving this explanation with a severe authority due to embarrassment, he looked at the young woman whose confusion he noted; either coming from the cold air outside to the warm air of the room had caused the blood to mount to her cheeks, or else this flush was caused by the awkwardness she experienced in advance, knowing what her answer must be. Blushing, her eyes filled with tears, she regained her breath as if she were choking, and replied with great effort: "My husband has wrecked his home himself. He has deprived us of his moral support. From now on, I have decided to dispense with his financial support. "I will bring them up myself. Later, they can do as they like." "It is the tenth month. The lawyer has already received ten thousand francs in your name. He does not wish to keep it." "Let him send it back to M. Derize." "Albert will not take it back. You know him well. He has pride ... like you." With a gesture of indifference, she indicated that she had nothing to do with the disposal of the money. However, Philippe Lagier's answer, that allusion to Albert's unselfish nature, was secretly pleasant to her. It put an end to the unpleasant memories which the presence of the lawyer would otherwise have awakened. He replied, with a little less assurance: "May I ask you a question? Do you not need this allowance, which is legal and which you can--which you ought to receive?" She explained her situation with simplicity. She had received a dowry of two hundred thousand francs, the interest of which would be sufficient for her. She did not add that her parents had not yet given her the last quarter of it, and that she found her income reduced to six thousand francs a year. Philippe really knew this, but only said: "It is not the position you are accustomed to." The apartment in which she was living was certainly neither like the one in the Rue Bara in Paris, nor that of the Molay-Norrois on the banks of the Isère. "I shall get used to it," she said, smiling. "It is nothing. I have no need to wear the garb of a martyr." The clothes she was wearing suited her so well, bringing out with such brilliance the beauty of her complexion, that he wanted to protest against this. He had lost the right to do so, and he therefore refrained. "My children's education," she continued, "will suffer in no wise from this reduction. I have promised myself and I shall keep my word. See, I have already begun. I correct Marie Louise's exercises, and I am teaching her her lessons." "You give yourself much trouble." "It gives me something to do. One must be occupied with other people when one's own life no longer has a purpose." She had risen. He believed that she was asking him to go. But she opened the drawer of a writing-table and came over to him to give him a packet, carefully folded, which he recognized.