"
The woman turned in her chair to a chest that stood by her side, opened
it, and took out a package carefully wrapped first in paper, then in a
linen cloth.
When she had removed the wrappings, she held up in her hands a child's
chemise and petticoat.
"What is needed to complete these, your ladyship?" she asked.
"A dear little child, I should say," answered Katharina, indulgently.
"You are right--a dear little child."
"Where is the child, Lisette?"
"That I don't know--do you understand? _I--don't--know._ And I don't
inquire, either. Now, will you still imagine that I have a tender heart?
It is years since I looked on these little garments. What did I do with
the child that wore them? Whose business is it what I did with her? She
was _my_ child, and I had a right to do as I pleased with her. I was
paid enough for it--an enormous price! You don't understand what I am
talking about, your ladyship. Go; take _mon petit garcon_ with you; and
may God do so to you as you deal with him. Take care of him. My cards
will tell me everything, and sometime, when I have turned into a hideous
hobgoblin, those whom I shall haunt will remember me! And now, _mon
petit garcon_"--turning again to Marie,--"let me kiss your hand for the
last time.
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