The two country people shook their heads, in sign of refusal, but when
they learned that they were to have a hundred francs a month, they
considered the matter, consulting one another by glances, much disturbed.
They kept silent for a long time, tortured, hesitating. At last the woman
asked: "What do you say to it, man?" In a weighty tone he said: "I say
that it's not to be despised."

Madame d'Hubieres, trembling with anguish, spoke of the future of their
child, of his happiness, and of the money which he could give them later.

The peasant asked: "This pension of twelve hundred francs, will it be
promised before a lawyer?"

M. d'Hubieres responded: "Why, certainly, beginning with to-morrow."

The woman, who was thinking it over, continued:

"A hundred francs a month is not enough to pay for depriving us of the
child. That child would be working in a few years; we must have a hundred
and twenty francs."

Tapping her foot with impatience, Madame d'Hubieres granted it at once,
and, as she wished to carry off the child with her, she gave a hundred
francs extra, as a present, while her husband drew up a paper. And the
young woman, radiant, carried off the howling brat, as one carries away a
wished-for knick-knack from a shop.

The Tuvaches, from their door, watched her departure, silent, serious,
perhaps regretting their refusal.