At these words Victor turned to give Paulette a sly wink, while she, quite embarrassed at being one of the party at table, and wondering if she would be spared committing a lapse in table manners, seated herself in the place indicated by Pierre.
There were no other guests and the whole establishment seemed to be run by the goodman and his wife, a fact which Lucie noted and whispered to Paulette.
“So much the better,” she returned; “the meal will probably be better cooked and better served,” as indeed it was.
After days of frugality it was indeed a treat to partake of a tasty soup, omelette of the freshest of eggs, chicken of the tenderest, grapes and pears just gathered. “I regret that the coffee is not up to the mark,” complained Pierre, who himself waited on them, “but what can you expect? C’est la guerre.”
Madame came from the kitchen rather flushed and embarrassed to ask timidly if Victor could find place in his luggage for a small package which she wished to send to her son. “It is but one pair of socks and another little thing,” she explained.
“I can find room for a dozen pairs of socks,” he responded heartily, “and would be glad to carry that many.”
“But no, monsieur, that would not be possible,” returned Madame. “One pair is all I have ready,” at which innocent reply Victor laughed heartily, rather to the discomfiture of the good little woman, who did not see the humor of it, and to turn the subject said to Lucie: “Perhaps mademoiselle would like to see a small thing I am sending. If monsieur can wait till I have put up the parcel.”
Victor assured her that time was no object just then. He would walk in the garden, smoke a cigarette, exchange views with Monsieur Pierre who perhaps would like to ask intimate questions about his son. Madame beckoned to Lucie who went off with her to an inner room. From a drawer Madame drew forth the socks and a little box which she opened and handed to Lucie to examine.
“And what are these?” asked Lucie as she held up two queer little figures, two or three inches long.
Madame smiled. “Those,” she said, “are Nenette and Rintintin. I am sending them to my son.”