CHAPTER V.
In spite of the coolness and discretion with which Philippe played his trifling game every night, it happened every now and then that he was what gamblers call "cleaned out." Driven by the irresistible necessity of having his evening stake of ten francs, he plundered the household, and laid hands on his brother's money and on all that Madame Descoings or Agathe left about.

Already the poor mother had had a dreadful vision in her first sleep: Philippe entered the room and took from the pockets of her gown all the money he could find.

Agathe pretended to sleep, but she passed the rest of the night in tears.

She saw the truth only too clearly.

"One wrong act is not a vice," Madame Descoings had declared; but after so many repetitions, vice was unmistakable.