Jeanne called again.
"Noemi! The thunder-storm! I am so frightened!" "You are not a bit frightened!" Noemi answered irritably.

"Be quiet! Go to sleep!" "I am frightened! I am coming into your room." "I forbid it!" "Then you must come in here!" Noemi's "Will you be quiet ?" sounded so resolute that the other was silent.
Only for a moment, however; then the tearful, childish voice, that Noemi knew so well, began again: "Have you not slept long enough?
Can you not talk now?
You must have slept three hours!" Noemi struck a match and looked at her watch, holding which she had previously begged for silence.
"Twenty-two minutes!" she announced.

"Be quiet!" Jeanne was still for a moment, then she uttered those little hm!--hm!--hms!--which are always the prelude to tears in a spoilt child.
And the complaining voice went on: "You do not love me at all! Hm! Hm! For pity's sake let us talk a little! Hm! Hm! Hm!" In her mother tongue, Noemi sighed: "_Oh_! _mon Dieu_!" With another sigh she resigned herself to the inevitable: "Well, go ahead! But what can you say to me that you have not already said in the last four hours ?" The thunder roared, but Jeanne no longer noticed it.
"To-morrow morning we will go to the monastery," said she.
"Why yes, of course!" "Only we two alone ?" "Yes, certainly, that is already settled." The tearful voice was silent a moment, and then went on: "You have not yet promised not to tell anything here in the house." "I've promised at least ten times!" "You know what you are to say--do you not--if you are questioned about my fainting last night ?" "I know." "You must say that the Padre was not _he_; that I was disappointed, and that was why I fainted." "Gracious, Jeanne! This is the twentieth time you have said that!" "How cruel you are, Noemi! How little you care for me!" Silence.
Jeanne's voice began again: "Tell me what you think.

Do you really believe he has forgotten me ?" "I will not answer that again!" "Oh! please answer! Just one word, then I will let you go to sleep!" Noemi reflected a moment and then answered drily, hoping to silence Jeanne: "Well, I think he has.

I do not believe he ever loved you." "You say that because I myself have said so to you!" Jeanne retorted violently, no longer in a tearful voice.
"You are no judge of that!" "_Bon ca_!" Noemi grumbled.