close up to her, tragic and terrible, and, pulling away her hands,
with which she had covered her face, he continued:

"Well, now! I call upon you to tell me which of us two is the father of
this young man; he or I, your husband or your lover. Come! Come! tell
us."

Limousin rushed at him. Parent pushed him back, and, sneering in his
fury, he said: "Ah! you are brave now! You are braver than you were that
day when you ran downstairs because you thought I was going to murder
you. Very well! If she will not reply, tell me yourself. You ought to
know as well as she. Tell me, are you this young fellow's father? Come!
Come! Tell me!"

He turned to his wife again. "If you will not tell me, at any rate tell
your son. He is a man, now, and he has the right to know who his father
is. I do not know, and I never did know, never, never! I cannot tell
you, my boy."

He seemed to be losing his senses; his voice grew shrill and he worked
his arms about as if he had an epileptic 'fit.

"Come!... Give me an answer. She does not know... I will make a bet
that she does not know... No... she does not know, by Jove! Ha! ha! ha!
Nobody knows... nobody... How can one know such things?

"You will not know either, my boy, you will not know any more than I
do ... never.... Look here... Ask her you will find that she does not
know... I do not know either... nor does he, nor do you, nobody knows.
You can choose... You can choose... yes, you can choose him or me...
Choose.

"Good evening... It is all over. If she makes up her mind to tell you,
you will come and let me know, will you not? I am living at the Hotel
des Continents... I should be glad to know... Good evening... I hope you
will enjoy yourselves very much..."

And he went away gesticulating, talking to himself under the tall trees,
in the quiet, the cool air, which was full of the fragrance of growing
plants. He did not turn round to look at them, but went straight on,
walking under the stimulus of his rage, under a storm of passion, with
that one fixed idea in his mind. All at once he found himself outside
the station. A train was about to start and he got in. During the
journey his anger calmed down, he regained his senses and returned to
Paris, astonished at his own boldness, full of aches and pains as if
he had broken some bones. Nevertheless, he went to have a "bock" at his
brewery.

When she saw him come in, Mademoiselle Zoe asked in surprise: "What!
back already? are y