rto followed a peaceful course, the
only battle being to make both ends meet every week, and to put by the
rent money for payment every quarter. During the eight years that the
sisters had been living together in the Rue de la Federation near the
Champ de Mars, occupying the same big room with cheerful windows, a room
whose coquettish cleanliness made them feel quite proud, Norine's child
had grown up steadily between his two affectionate mothers. For he had
ended by confounding them together: there was Mamma Norine and there
was Mamma Cecile; and he did not exactly know whether one of the two
was more his mother than the other. It was for him alone that they both
lived and toiled, the one still a fine, good-looking woman at forty
years of age, the other yet girlish at thirty.

Now, at about ten o'clock that Sunday, there came in succession two
loud knocks at the door. When the latter was opened a short, thick-set
fellow, about eighteen, stepped in. He was dark-haired, with a square
face, a hard prominent jaw, and eyes of a pale gray. And he wore a
ragged old jacket and a gray cloth cap, discolored by long usage.

"Excuse me," said he; "but isn't it here that live Mesdames Moineaud,
who make cardboard boxes?"

Norine stood there looking at him with sudden uneasiness. Her heart
had contracted as if she were menaced. She had certainly seen that face
somewhere before; but she could only recall one old-time danger, which
suddenly seemed to revive, more formidable than ever, as if threatening
to spoil her quiet life.

"Yes, it is here," she answered.

Without any haste the young man glanced around the room. He must have
expected more signs of means than he found, for he pouted slightly. Then
his eyes rested on the child, who, like a well-behaved little boy,
had been amusing himself with reading, and had now raised his face
to examine the newcomer. And the latter concluded his examination by
directing a brief glance at the other woman who was present, a slight,
sickly creature who likewise felt anxious in presence of that sudden
apparition of the unknown.

"I was told the left-hand door on the fourth floor," the young man
resumed. "But, all the same, I was afraid of making a mistake, for
the things I have to say can't be said to everybody. It isn't an easy
matter, and, of course, I thought it well over before I came here."

He spoke slowly in a drawling way, and after again making sure that the
other woman was too you