The effect was immediate; she stood there, trembling, crying, and blushing even more than he was. That's old people for you! Only a drop of blood in their veins, but at the least emotion, it leaps to their faces….
—Quick, get a chair, said the old woman to her little companion.
—Open the blinds, cried the old man to his.
The couple took a hand each, and trotted me over to the window, which they opened wide to get a better look at me. Once they got back into their armchairs, I sat down between them on a folding stool, and with the little blues stationed behind us, the grand interrogation began:
—How is he? What is he doing with himself? Why doesn't he come? Is he settled in?…
And so on and so forth—for hours on end.
I was answering all their questions as best I could, filling in the details that I knew, shamelessly inventing those I didn't, without ever admitting that I hadn't noticed if his windows were well-fitting, or the colour of his bedroom wallpaper.
—The bedroom wallpaper!… It's blue, madame, pale blue, with a floral pattern on it….
—Really? went the old lady fondly, and added turning to her husband:
"He's such a fine boy!"
—Oh yes, he's such a fine boy! he echoed enthusiastically.