“Certainly, sir!”

“Wonderful! but tell me why you wouldn’t let me see for myself?”

“Because it revolted me.”

“Nevertheless you will have to do so, for otherwise, in spite of your prettiness, people will not know what to make of you.  Would you like to let me try?”

“Yes, but not in this horrible house.”

“Where, then?”

“Go to my mother’s to-morrow, I will be there.  Your guide knows where she lives.”

When I got outside, I asked the man if he knew her.  He replied in the affirmative, and said he believed her to be an honest girl.

“You will take me to-morrow to see her mother,” I said.

Next morning he took me to the end of the town, to a poor house, where I found a poor woman and poor children living on the ground floor, and eating hard black bread.

“What do you want?” said she.

“Is you daughter here?”

“No, and what if she were?  I am not her bawd.”

“No, of course not, my good woman.”

Just then the girl came in, and the enraged mother flung an old pot which came handy, at her head.  Luckily it missed, but she would not have escaped her mother’s talons if I had not flung myself between them.  However, the old woman set up a dismal shriek, the children imitated her, and the poor girl began to cry.  This hubbub made my man come in.

“You hussy!” screamed the mother, “you are bringing disgrace on me; get out of my house.  You are no longer my daughter!”

I was in a difficult position.  The man begged her not to make such a noise, as it would draw all the neighbours about the house; but the enraged woman answered only by abuse.  I drew six francs from my pocket and gave them to her, but she flung them in my face.  At last I went out with the daughter, whose hair she attempted to pull out by the roots, which project was defeated by the aid of my man.  As soon as we got outside, the mob which the uproar had attracted hooted me and followed me, and no doubt I should have been torn to pieces if I had not escaped into a church, which I left by another door a quarter of an hour later.  My fright saved me, for I knew the ferocity of the Provencals, and I took care not to reply a word to the storm of abuse which poured on me.  I believe that I was never in greater danger than on that day.

Before I got back to my inn I was rejoined by the servant and the girl.

“How could you lead me into such a dangerous position?” said I.  “You must have known your mother was savage.”

“I hoped she would behave respectfully to you.”

“Be calm; don’t weep any more.  Tell me how I can serve you.”

“Rather than return to that horrible house I was in yesterday I would throw myself into the sea.”

“Do you know of any respectable house where I can keep her?” said I to the man.

He told me he did know a respectable individual who let furnished apartments.