Jeanne-Marie went to the top of the stairs and called "Jacques
Monnier!"
"_Hein?_" said the man, coming slowly to the door below, and
standing with his broad figure framed in it.
"Jacques," said Jeanne-Marie, "go at once for the doctor, and
tell him to come here, for some one is very ill."
"_Hein?_" said Jacques again, "does that concern me? I must
attend to my own affairs, and finish my wine, Jeanne-Marie."
"If you do not go this moment," said the woman, with a little
stamp of her foot, "you shall never taste my wine again, with
or without payment, Jacques, _et je tiens parole, moi!_"
"There is other wine to be had in Le Trooz," answered the man
sulkily, but moving nevertheless towards the entrance, when
she was recalled by Jeanne-Marie.
"Jacques," she said, coming two or three steps down the
stairs, "if Monsieur le Docteur inquires who is ill, you will
say it is my niece."
"But she is then your niece, _la petite_," said Jacques,
scratching his head as an outward expression of some inward
perplexity.
"You will tell Monsieur le Docteur what I say," repeated
Jeanne-Marie imperiously, "and make haste;" and she went
upstairs again, and closed the bed-room with a certain
emphasis, as though to prevent further discussion.
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