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He no longer ventured to speak, keeping his eyes fixed on the table which stood in the center of the room, with three covers laid on it, one of which was for a child. He glanced at the chair which had its back turned to the fire. They had been expecting him. That was his bread which he saw, and which he recognized near the fork, for the crust had been removed on account of Hautot's bad teeth.
They stood looking thus at one another for nearly half-a-minute, at the end of which she said in a questioning tone: "You have something to tell me Monsieur?" He falteringly replied: "I am M. Hautot's son." She gave a start, turned pale, and stammered out as If she had known him for a long time: "Monsieur César?" "Yes." "And what next?" "I have come to speak to you on the part of my father."
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