They did not know to what part of the town
their mother was gone; they could tell only "that she was to go to a
great many different places to carry back work, and to bring home more,
and that she expected to be in by five." It was now half after four.
Whilst Madame de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full
account of the manner in which the accident had happened.
"Why, ma'am," said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged handkerchief
as he spoke, "the first beginning of all the mischief was, we had nothing
to do, so we went to the ashes to make dirt pies; but Babet would go so
close that she burnt her petticoat, and threw about all our ashes, and
plagued us, and we whipped her. But all would not do, she would not be
quiet; so to get out of her reach, we climbed up by this chair on the
table to the top of the press, and there we were well enough for a little
while, till somehow we began to quarrel about the old scissors, and we
struggled hard for them till I got this cut."
Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
wound, which he had never mentioned before.
"Then," continued he, "when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and she
pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot slipped, and
down she fell, and caught by the press-door, and pulled it and me after
her, and that's all I know.
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