e.
Pressed by his creditors he had forged his uncle's name. The only way
out of the affair was to borrow from Julie to hush up the matter. It did
not occur to him at the time how she would feel about the girl; neither
did he realize that he had grown to be an arrogant young snob who now
treated Julie, who had saved his life, and pampered him, more like a
servant than a foster-mother.
The night young Garron arrived was at the moment of the highest tides.
The four supped together that night in the hut--the father silent and
sullen throughout the meal and Julie insanely jealous of the girl. Later
old Garron went off across the marsh in the moonlight to look after his
snares.
When the three were alone Julie turned to the boy. For some moments she
regarded him shrewdly. She saw he was no longer the wild young savage
she had brought up; there was a certain nervous, blase feebleness about
his movements as he sat uneasily in his chair, his hands thrust in the
pockets of his hunting coat, his chin sunk on his chest. She noticed
too, the unnatural redness of his lips and the haggard pallor about his
thin, sunken cheeks.
"_Eh ben, mon petit_--" she began at length. "It is a poor place to get
fat in, your Paris! They don't feed you any too well--_hein?_--Those
grand restaurants you talk so much about. Pouf!"
"_Penses-tu?_" added the girl, since Garron did not reply. Instead he
lighted a fresh cigarette, took two long puffs from it, and threw it on
the floor.
The girl, angered at his silence and lack of courage, gave him a vicious
glance.
"_Helas!_" sighed Julie, "you were quicker with your tongue when you
were a baby."
"_Ah zut!_" exclaimed the girl in disgust. "He has something to tell
you--" she blurted out to Julie.
"_Eh ben!_ What?" demanded Julie firmly.
"I need some money," muttered the boy doggedly. "I _need it!!_" he cried
suddenly, gaining courage in a sort of nervous hysteria.
Julie stared at him in amazement, the girl watching her like a lynx.
"_Bon Dieu!_" shouted Julie. "And it is because of _that_ you sit there
like a sick cat! Listen to me, my little one. Eat the good grease like
the rest of us and be content if you keep out of jail."
The boy sank lower in his chair.
"It will be jail for me," he said, "unless you help me. Give me five
hundred francs. I tell you I am in a bad fix. _Sacre bon Dieu!_--you
_shall_ give it to me!" he cried, half springing from his chair.
"Shut up, thou," w
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