Ernest Pérochon

“ For her own part, Madeleine was convinced of it. But other thoughts had come to trouble her—much more grievous and heart-rending thoughts.
What would become of her brother? He had seen Violette again; Madeleine knew it and she imagined, reasonably enough, that the hussy made a game of searing men's hearts. If she encouraged Michael and Tom, Dick and Harry only to laugh at them afterwards, let her, and no great harm done! Why did the fools let her catch them? But with a cripple it wasn't the same at all; at least, not to Madeleine. ”

“ The very thought of it made Madeleine shiver.
Then there was Michael, too. What on earth had come over him? A man of thirty, and fixed as he was! The idea of his falling in love with such a young thing whose head was filled with nothing but tricks! Was he thinking of marrying the girl? Anyhow, even if he was, Violette had no such intention! Just imagine the pretty little dressmaker in a work apron and clumsy wooden shoes!
And what about the children? Couldn't he think of them a little? Could anybody love them more than Madeleine? Could they possibly be torn away from her some day? ”

“ At the mere thought of it, Madeleine's head buzzed like a swarm of hornets.
"Oh, I'm just a big fool! Michael is only a bad boy having his fun.— If he gets hurt, so much the better! It's all plain foolishness and no more! ”