"The burden of proof is now on you, madame," said Dumay, calmly; "it
is for you to prove that we are mistaken."
Discovering that the matter in question was only Modeste's honor,
Gobenheim took his hat, made his bow, and walked off, carrying his ten
sous with him,--there being evidently no hope of another rubber.
"Exupere, and you too, Butscha, may leave us," said Madame
Latournelle. "Go back to Havre; you will get there in time for the
last piece at the theatre. I'll pay for your tickets."
When the four friends were alone with Madame Mignon, Madame
Latournelle, after looking at Dumay, who being a Breton understood the
mother's obstinacy, and at her husband who was fingering the cards,
felt herself authorized to speak up.
"Madame Mignon, come now, tell us what decisive thing has struck your
mind."
"Ah, my good friend, if you were a musician you would have heard, as I
have, the language of love that Modeste speaks."
The piano of the demoiselles Mignon was among the few articles of
furniture which had been moved from the town-house to the Chalet.
Modeste often conjured away her troubles by practising, without a
master.
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