"He saw from the
hill behind the Manor on Tuesday last."
There was a tap at the door of the other room; it slowly opened, and the
figure of the Clerk appeared. "Two minutes--just two minutes more, old
trump!" said the master-carpenter, stretching out a hand. "One minute
will be enough," said Carmen, who was suffering the greatest humiliation
which can come to a woman.
The Clerk looked at them both, and he was content. He saw that one minute
would certainly be enough. "Very well, monsieur and madame," he said, and
closed the door again.
Carmen turned fiercely on the man. "M. Fille saw, did he, from Mont
Violet? Well, when I came here I did not care who saw. I only thought of
you--that you wanted me, and that I wanted you. What the world thought
was nothing, if you were as when we parted last night. . . . I could not
face Jean Jacques' forgiveness. To stay there, feeling that I must be
always grateful, that I must be humble, that I must pretend, that I must
kiss Jean Jacques, and lie in his arms, and go to mass and to confession,
and--"
"There is the child, there is Zoe--"
"Oh, it is you that preaches now--you that tempted me, that said I was
wasted at the Manor; that the parish did not understand me; that Jean
Jacques did not know a jewel of price when he saw it--little did you
think of Zoe then!"
He made a protesting gesture.
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