“Be quiet,” murmured Denise. “Presently, do get along.” They were now in the parcels office. The dead season had thrown the vast floor into a sort of torpor, in the pale light from the air-holes. It was cold as well, a silence fell from the ceiling. However, a porter was collecting from one of the compartments the few packets for the neighbourhood of the Madeleine; and, on the large sorting-table, was seated Campion, the chief clerk, his legs dangling, and his eyes wandering about. Jean began again: “The husband, who has a big knife----” “Get along!” repeated Denise, still pushing him forward. They followed one of the narrow corridors, where the gas was kept continually burning. To the right and the left in the dark vaults the reserve goods threw out their shadows behind the gratings. At last she stopped opposite one of these. Nobody was likely to pass that way; but it was not allowed, and she shuddered. “If this rascal says anything,” resumed Jean, “the husband, who has a big knife----” “Where do you expect I can find fifteen francs?” exclaimed Denise in despair. “Can't you be more careful? You're always getting into some stupid scrape!” He struck his chest. Amidst all his romantic inventions, he had almost forgotten the exact truth. He dramatised his money wants, but there was always some immediate necessity behind this display. “By all that's sacred, it's really true this time. I was holding her like this, and she was kissing me----” She stopped him again, and lost her temper, feeling on thorns, completely at a loss. “I don't want to know. Keep your wicked conduct to yourself. It's too bad, you ought to know better! You're always tormenting me. I'm killing myself to keep you in money. Yes, I have to stay up all night at work. Not only that, you are taking the bread out of your little brother's mouth.” Jean stood there with his mouth wide open, and all the colour left his face. What! it was not right? And he could not understand, he had always treated his sister like a comrade, he thought it quite a natural thing to open his heart to her. But what choked him above all, was to learn she stopped up all night. The idea that he was killing her, and taking Pépé's share as well, affected him so much that he began to cry.