"Where is the will ?" he said.
"Where is the will, Louis," she repeated after him mechanically, staring at his face, ghostly in the moonlight.
"The will you found behind the picture in the library." "O Louis!" she cried, and made a gesture of despair.

"O Louis!" "You found it, and Tardif stole it and took it to Quebec." "Yes, Louis, but Louis--ah, what is the matter, dear! I cannot bear that look in your face.

What is the matter, Louis ?" "Tardif took it to Fournel, and you followed.

And I have been living in another man's house, on another's bread--" "O Louis, no--no--no! Our money has paid for all." "Your money, Madelinette!" His voice rose.
"Ah, don't speak like that! See, Louis.

It can make no difference.