ill so close to the Desmoulins and them?" His face grew serious.

"What''s the problem?" she asked, defensive.

Andre let out a sigh, "You should probably not go there too often for the time being."

"Don''t you think you should be franker, Andre?" Edith turned her head with vigilance.

"What do you mean?"

She remained silent, staring at him with hostility in her eyes.

Andre stepped forward, trying to embrace her shoulders, but she dodged with a shudder. "Don''t touch me, Andre Quenet!"

He withdrew his arms, looking surprised and hurt. Edith coldly pushed him to the side, and he slumped against the wall, watching her walking straight into her own room.

------------------------

Andre strode into the committee''s office, snatching the documents from the hands of the soldier of the National Guard who scurried closely behind him. With one eye scanning the pages, he half-heartedly listened to the young man''s report.

"Have those two remainders of Hébertists been caught?" he interrupted the youth abruptly.

"No news yet, Citizen Quenet."

"No news?" he repeated icily, then suddenly tossed the stack of files he was holding into the air and shouted, "No news!"

The papers flew and slapped the face of the small soldier, scattering all over the ground. One piece''s edge sliced a long gash on the soldier''s forehead, blood trickling like a thread of crimson lace down his face to his chin.

The boy timidly lowered his head and glimpsing up at Quenet''s chest heaving with rage.