"It is true, then," he said excitedly. "And M. Deshoulieres is aware of my sentiments." Max turned round grave and quiet. "It is unnecessary to repeat them in the presence of Mademoiselle Veuillot." "_Parbleu_, and why? They will be repeated before the world very shortly, let me assure you, if the will and certain explanations do not reach me." She looked inquiringly--again not at him, but at M. Deshoulieres. This time he answered her: "Monsieur Roulleau's absence has placed us in a difficulty. Until his return M. Saint-Martin has only my Word to rely upon." "A word which, unfortunately, is contradicted by facts." Whether he was provoked by M. Deshoulieres' calmness, or irritated by his disappointment, his tone was more insulting than it had been the preceding night. The girl's eyes flashed. "Are you doubting his word?" "There is scarcely room for _doubt_," said Fabien, meaningly. With a swift impetuous impulse she crossed to where Max stood,-- "How can you let them say such things?" she said, passionately, her breathing short and quick. Poor Therese! she felt all a woman's indignation and a woman's powerlessness at once. "M. le Cure," she cried, "how can you listen and not speak?" I think she dumbfounded them all for a minute. Nannon, who heard her voice, stopped her chanson to listen. Max, with a strange sweet pain in his heart, looked down at her and cared very little for Fabien's rude speeches. After all, she was not powerless. Max looked at her and said, softly,-- "Such things do not hurt me." And at that moment there was a heavy step, a little fumbling at the door, and Madame Roulleau came in. Her face was so white and rigid that Fabien, who did not know her, exclaimed as if she were an apparition, and, indeed, the others were scarcely less startled. She came across the room, like a person walking in a dream, straight to where M. Deshoulieres stood, and flung a key on the table, before him. "There is what you want," she said. "If I touch the papers they will scorch me." They all looked at one another. Therese, who was still trembling with excitement, put her hand on her arm. Madame Roulleau threw it off, keeping her eyes fixed on M. Deshoulieres.