kes; we can get over that; but
what I won't tolerate is that he should involve us in his politics. If
he tries to lead you off again, or compromises us in the least degree,
I shall turn him out of the house without the least hesitation. I warn
you, and now you understand!"

Florent was doomed. Lisa was making a great effort to restrain herself,
to prevent the animosity which had long been rankling in her heart
from flowing forth. But Florent and his ways jarred against her every
instinct; he wounded her, frightened her, and made her quite miserable.

"A man who has made such a discreditable career," she murmured, "who has
never been able to get a roof of his own over his head! I can very well
understand his partiality for bullets! He can go and stand in their way
if he chooses; but let him leave honest folks to their families! And
then, he isn't pleasant to have about one! He reeks of fish in the
evening at dinner! It prevents me from eating. He himself never lets a
mouthful go past him, though it's little better he seems to be for it
all! He can't even grow decently stout, the wretched fellow, to such a
degree do his bad instincts prey on him!"

She had stepped up to the window whilst speaking, and now saw Florent
crossing the Rue Rambuteau on his way to the fish market. There was
a very large arrival of fish that morning; the tray-like baskets were
covered with rippling silver, and the auction rooms roared with the
hubbub of their sales. Lisa kept her eyes on the bony shoulders of her
brother-in-law as he made his way into the pungent smells of the market,
stooping beneath the sickening sensation which they brought him; and
the glance with which she followed his steps was that of a woman bent on
combat and resolved to be victorious.

When she turned round again, Quenu was getting up. As he sat on the edge
of the bed in his night-shirt, still warm from the pleasant heat of the
eider-down quilt and with his feet resting on the soft fluffy rug below
him, he looked quite pale, quite distressed at the misunderstanding
between his wife and his brother. Lisa, however, gave him one of her
sweetest smiles, and he felt deeply touched when she handed him his
socks.

CHAPTER IV

Marjolin had been found in a heap of cabbages at the Market of the
Innocents. He was sleeping under the shelter of a large white-hearted
one, a broad leaf of which concealed his rosy childish face It was never
known what poverty-stricken mother