"What am I to think of this ?" continued Madame Zamenoy.

"It cannot be that you wish your child to be the wife of a Jew!" "You are to think, aunt Sophie, that father is ill, and that he cannot stand against your violence." "Violence, you wicked girl! It is you that are violent." "Will you come out into the parlour, aunt ?" "No, I will not come out into the parlour.

I will not stir from this spot till I have told your father all that I think about it.
Ill, indeed! What matters illness when it is a question of eternal damnation!" Madame Zamenoy put so much stress upon the latter word that her brother-in-law almost jumped from under the bed-clothes.

Nina raised herself, as she was standing, to her full height, and a smile of derision came upon her face.

"Oh, yes! I daresay you do not mind it," said Madame Zamenoy.