per, viper!" he said. "Go out the room, viper! Go out, or I
shall kill you! Go out! Go out!"

And with a desperate effort he threw her into the next room. She fell
across the table, which was laid for dinner, breaking the glasses. Then,
rising to her feet, she put the table between her master and herself.
While he was pursuing her, in order to take hold of her again, she flung
terrible words at him.

"You need only go out this evening after dinner, and come in again
immediately, and you will see! You will see whether I have been lying!
Just try it, and you will see." She had reached the kitchen door and
escaped, but he ran after her, up the back stairs to her bedroom, into
which she had locked herself, and knocking at the door, he said:

"You will leave my house this very instant!"

"You may be certain of that, monsieur," was her reply. "In an hour's time
I shall not be here any longer."

He then went slowly downstairs again, holding on to the banister so as
not to fall, and went back to the drawing-room, where little George was
sitting on the floor, crying. He fell into a chair, and looked at the
child with dull eyes. He understood nothing, knew nothing more; he felt
dazed, stupefied, mad, as if he had just fallen on his head, and he
scarcely even remembered the dreadful things the servant had told him.
Then, by degrees, his mind, like muddy water, became calmer and clearer,
and the abominable revelations began to work in his heart.

He was no longer thinking of George. The child was quiet now and sitting
on the carpet; but, seeing that no notice was being taken of him, he
began to cry. His father ran to him, took him in his arms, and covered
him with kisses. His child remained to him, at any rate! What did the
rest matter? He held him in his arms and pressed his lips to his light
hair, and, relieved and composed, he whispered:

"George--my little George--my dear little George----"
But he suddenly remembered what Julie had said! Yes, she had said that he
was Limousin's child. Oh! it could not be possible, surely. He could not
believe it, could not doubt, even for a moment, that he was his own
child. It was one of those low scandals which spring from servants'
brains! And he repeated: "George--my dear little George." The
youngster was quiet again, now that his father was fondling him.

Parent felt the warmth of the little chest penetrate through his clothes,
and it filled him with love, courage, and happiness; t