It's a long time since we met, eight years and more. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it. If you don’t eat humble-pie now you may live to fare worse later. I do not love any one. Not many years ago, two men, employed on this duty, quarrelled during the night, and in the morning their bodies were found stretched upon the pavement of the yard beneath.
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