"Yes, my child—you oughtn't to be here. It's your father—he ought to understand," said Mr. Probert.
"For God's sake don't send for him—let it all stop!" Mme. de Cliché exclaimed.
Francie looked at her; then she said, "Goodbye, Mr. Probert—good-bye, Susan."
"Give her your arm—take her to the carriage," she heard Mme. de Brécourt say to her husband. She got to the door she hardly knew how—she was only conscious that Susan held her once more long enough to kiss her. Poor Susan wanted to comfort her; that showed how bad (feeling as she did) she believed the whole business would yet be. It would be bad because Gaston—Gaston: Francie did not complete that thought, yet only Gaston was in her mind as she hurried to the carriage. M. de Brécourt hurried beside her; she would not take his arm. But he opened the door for her and as she got in she heard him murmur strangely, "You are charming, mademoiselle—charming, charming!"
