"Pity! why, you see that they had no pity for you;--for they abandoned you--and now you think that I will take care of you,--of you, their child, the fruit of their adulterous intercourse!--No, no! I do not want to see you again; your presence reopens all my wounds.--Leave my house, mademoiselle, and enter it no more." "Oh! pardon, pardon, monsieur! if I had known----" "As for this handkerchief, which belonged to your mother, I will keep it, for there are monograms on it and a coat of arms which you have no right to retain. Go, go; I do not want to see you any more; your presence distresses me." Violette felt as if she were dying; but the count's wrath terrified her; utterly crushed by what she had learned, she had not the strength to say a word; she left the study and the house; two streams of tears flowed from her eyes, and she did not think of wiping them away. She crossed the lawn and went toward the gate; the gardener, who was still there, struck by the girl's suffering, called to her, asked her why she was weeping, and urged her to stop a moment in the summer-house, observing that the weather was very threatening and that a storm was brewing. Violette did not listen, or did not hear, but walked on at a rapid pace, and soon passed through the gate and left the count's residence behind. Despairing, humiliated, distressed beyond measure at having been so maltreated by the man who had made Georget and his mother welcome, Violette walked for a long time without any idea where she was going. But what did it matter to her? She paid no heed to the road that she was following, but she walked very quickly; not to gain shelter from the rain which was beginning to fall, for she did not feel it; her head was on fire, her limbs shook with fever; but she walked on, saying to herself: "I am a child of crime! my mother was guilty, my father was false to friendship! ah! no doubt that is the reason why he drives me from his house, and forbids me to ask help and protection from him. Well, in that case, it is not worth while to live; it was not enough to have been abandoned by my parents; now that people know who I am, I must expect to be turned away with contempt wherever I go. How he treated me, that gentleman who is said to be so kind! Oh, no! I cannot live like this, I am too unhappy. Despised by the whole world,--I had done nothing to deserve that; and now my birth is thrown in my face! Did I ask to be born?"