"There he is! there he is!" cried the Descoings, sitting up in bed and
suddenly able to use her paralyzed tongue.
Agathe and Joseph were deeply impressed by this powerful effect of the
horror which violently agitated the old woman. Their painful suspense
was soon ended by the sight of Philippe's convulsed and purple face,
his staggering walk, and the horrible state of his eyes, which were
deeply sunken, dull, and yet haggard; he had a strong chill upon him,
and his teeth chattered.
"Starvation in Prussia!" he cried, looking about him. "Nothing to eat
or drink?--and my throat on fire! Well, what's the matter? The devil
is always meddling in our affairs. There's my old Descoings in bed,
looking at me with her eyes as big as saucers."
"Be silent, monsieur!" said Agathe, rising. "At least, respect the
sorrows you have caused."
"_Monsieur_, indeed!" he cried, looking at his mother. "My dear little
mother, that won't do. Have you ceased to love your son?"
"Are you worthy of love? Have you forgotten what you did yesterday? Go
and find yourself another home; you cannot live with us any longer,
--that is, after to-morrow," she added; "for in the state you are in
now it is difficult--"
"To turn me out,--is that it?" he interrupted. "Ha! are you going to
play the melodrama of 'The Banished Son'? Well done! is that how you
take things? You are all a pretty set! What harm have I done? I've
cleaned out the old woman's mattress.
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