JeanneMarieshuddered。“Icannot，“shewhispered；“itwouldseemtomeasifIwerecuttingoffhishead，andthewomaninwhitewouldstandbehind，andpiercemethroughwithhergreateyes。“
“Come，come，thatoldstoryagain!“growledSimon。“Givemethescissors，then；Iwilltakecareofit，fortheboymustpartwithhishairbeforehegoesintothebasket。Come，come，donotshrinkandcurlupso；Iwasnotspeakingoftheguillotine-basket，butofyourdirty-clothesbasket。Come，Capet，Iwanttocutyourhair。“
Hetookthegreatshearsfromthework-basket，andsatdownonastoolbythesideofthetable，onwhichburnedadimtallowcandle，throwinganuncertainlightthroughtheapartment。“Come，Capet!“
Theboystoleupwithaninsecurestep，andshranktogetherwhenSimonseizedhimanddrewhimbetweenhisknees。
“Donothurthim，Simon。Becarefulofhim，“whisperedJeanneMarie，sinkingonthefloorandfoldingherhands。“Remember，husband，thatsheishere，andthatsheislookingatyou，andthatsheboresintomyheadwithhereyeswhenyoudoanyharmtothechild。“