gratified, she stammered:

"They will not do it, Henri, they will not do it."

Then he made a last attempt: "But, my friends, think of the child's
future, of his happiness, of--"

The peasant woman, however, exasperated, cut him short:

"It's all considered! It's all understood! Get out of here, and don't let
me see you again--the idea of wanting to take away a child like
that!"

Madame d'Hubieres remembered that there were two children, quite little,
and she asked, through her tears, with the tenacity of a wilful and
spoiled woman:

"But is the other little one not yours?"

Father Tuvache answered: "No, it is our neighbors'. You can go to them if
you wish." And he went back into his house, whence resounded the
indignant voice of his wife.

The Vallins were at table, slowly eating slices of bread which they
parsimoniously spread with a little rancid butter on a plate between the
two.

M. d'Hubieres recommenced his proposals, but with more insinuations, more
oratorical precautions, more shrewdness.