The doors closed; the book-case slid across.

She sat down and folded her arms.
"What, you're not going to stop here ?" cried Lupin.
"Make me stir if you can.

I'm as fond of you as she is--you know I am," said Victoire, and her face set stonily obstinate.
Lupin begged her to go; ordered her to go; he seized her by the shoulder, shook her, and abused her like a pickpocket.

She would not stir.

He abandoned the effort, sat down, and knitted his brow again in profound and painful thought, working out his plan.