"Here, take this--" She held out to him a hundred francs in gold, wrapped up in paper.
Philippe came up the stairs he had just descended, and took the money.
"Well; won't you kiss me ?" she said, bursting into tears.
He pressed his mother in his arms, but without the warmth of feeling which was all that could give value to the embrace.
"Where shall you go ?" asked Agathe.
"To Florentine, Girodeau's mistress.

Ah! they are real friends!" he answered brutally.
He went away.

Agathe turned back with trembling limbs, and failing eyes, and aching heart.

She fell upon her knees, prayed God to take her unnatural child into His own keeping, and abdicated her woeful motherhood..