he role of savior which she
had imposed upon herself, rejoined:

"No, mamma, I am no longer a child, and I have the right to know. I
know that we receive persons of bad repute, adventurers, and I know
that, on that account, people do not respect us. I know more. Well,
it must not be, any longer, do you hear? I do not wish it. We will
go away: you will sell your jewels; we will work, if need be, and we
will live as honest women, somewhere very far away. And if I can
marry, so much the better."

She answered: "You are crazy. You will do me the favor to rise and
come down to breakfast with all the rest."

"No, mamma. There is some one whom I shall never see again, you
understand me. I want him to leave, or I shall leave. You shall
choose between him and me."

She was sitting up in bed, and she raised her voice, speaking as
they do on the stage, playing, finally, the drama which she had
dreamed, almost forgetting her grief in the effort to fulfill her
mission.

The Marquise, stupefied, again repeated: "You are crazy--" not
finding anything else to say.

Yvette replied with a theatrical energy: "No, mamma, that man shall
leave the house, or I shall go myself, for I will not weaken."

"And where will you go? What will you do?"

"I do not know, it matters little--I want you to be an honest
woman."

These words which recurred, aroused in the Marquise a perfect fury,
and she cried:

"Be silent. I do not permit you to talk to me like that. I am as
good as anybody else, do you understand? I lead a certain sort of
life, it is true, and I am proud of it; the 'honest women' are not
as good as I am."

Yvette, astonished, looked at her, and stammered: "Oh! mamma!"

But the Marquise, carried away with excitement, continued:

"Yes, I lead a certain life--what of it? Otherwise you would be a
cook, as I was once, and earn thirty sous a day. You would be
washing dishes, and your mistress would send you to market--do you
understand--and she would turn you out if you loitered, just as you
loiter, now because I am--because I lead this life. Listen. When a
person is only a nursemaid, a poor girl, with fifty francs saved up,
she must know how to manage, if she does not want to starve to
death; and there are not two ways for us, there are not two ways, do
you understand, when we are servants. We cannot make our fortune
with official positions, nor with stockjobbing tricks. We have only
one way--only one way."

She struck her