If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. There were so many things about her which he could not understand. She laughed. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. He thought for a moment, and went on: “Love is something that has to be taken care of. ” She replied informally.
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