But that is not the
question before us now, citizen. We want to talk about the health of
your wife here. She is sick, she has a fever, and it will be worse
yet with her, unless we take prompt measures and provide a cooling
drink for her."
"Do it, citizen doctor," said Simon; "make my Jeanne Marie well and
bright again, or I shall go crazy here in this accursed house.
Jeanne Marie is sick just with this, that she is not accustomed to
be idle, and to sit still and fold her hands in her lap, and run
around like a wild beast in its cage. But here in the Temple it is
no better than in a cage; and I tell you, citizen, it is enough to
make one crazy here, and it has made Jeanne sick to have no fresh
air, no exercise and work."
"But why has she no exercise and no work? Why does she not go out
into the street and take the air?"
"Because she cannot," cried Simon, passionately. "Because the cursed
little viper there embitters our whole life and makes us prisoners
to this miserable, wretched prisoner, Look at him there, the
infernal little wolf! he is the one to blame that I cannot go into
the street, cannot visit the clubs, the Convention, or any meeting,
but must lire here like a Trappist, or like an imprisoned criminal.
He is the one to blame that my wife can no longer take her place at
the guillotine, and knit and go on with her work there.
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