“Quite so, whether you like it or not.” She ducked about scraping and
smoothing with flexible thumb.
“But I’m fond of them.”
“Of Claire?”
“Yes.”
“People are.”
“You sound very dry.”
She gave a poke to her ugly old man’s protruding eye.
“_Mon dieu_, I’m not too fond of your family, as you well know. They
bore me. I was brought up with Claire. We know each other.”
“You don’t like her.”
“She is uninteresting, no courage, no character.”
“She has put up with a great deal.”
“Has she? She liked her husband’s money, you know, and he’s not a bad
sort, really, merely vulgar, quite good-natured.”
“She loves her children,” I said weakly. At that Clémentine looked
round quickly.
“Do you call that a virtue?” she asked.