Eight o'clock
He was not vexed with her for being late , but he was frightened , frightened of her and of Julie , frightened at the thought of all that might happen . Ten minutes more , would suffice to bring about an irreparable catastrophe , explanations and acts of violence that he did not dare to picture to himself . The mere idea of a quarrel , of their loud voices , of insults flying through the air like bullets , the two women standing face to face , looking at each other and flinging abuse at one another , made his heart beat , and his tongue as parched as if he had been walking in the sun , and made him as limp as a rag , so limp that he no longer had the strength to lift up the child , and to dance him on his knee . Eight o'clock struck , the door opened once more and Julie came in again . She had lost her look of exasperation , but now she put on an air of cold and determined resolution , which was still more formidable . `` Monsieur , '' she said , `` I served your mother until the day of her death , and I have attended to you from your birth until now , and I think it may be said that I am devoted to the family . '' She waited for a reply , and Parent stammered : `` Why yes , certainly , my good Julie . ''