She will have to speak.

I am not a scented, educated gentleman.

I am a peasant, and if I have to--" "Enough," said Madame Desvarennes, sharply tapping with the tips of her fingers Cayrol's great fist which he held menacingly like a butcher about to strike.

Then, taking him quietly aside toward the window, she added: "You are a fool to go on like this! Go to my room for a moment.

To you, now, she will not say anything; to me she will confide all and we shall know what to do." Cayrol's face brightened.
"You are right," he said.