Aurelle went on to the next house, where other old women mourned other Billys, Harrys, Gingers, and Darkies.
One stout lady explained that noise gave her palpitations; another, quite seventy-five, that it was not proper for a girl living alone.
At last he found a corpulent lady whom he overwhelmed with such eloquent protestations that she could not get in a word. The next morning, he sent her the orderlies with the plate and crockery, and at lunchtime brought along Parker and O'Grady. The servants were waiting for them at the door.
"Madame is a regular witch, sir. She's a proper fury, that's what she is, sir."
"Madame" welcomed them with confused complaints.
"Ah! bien merci! Ah! bien merci! How I have regretted having agreed to have you. I have not had a wink of sleep with my husband abusing me. He nearly beat me, monsieur. Oh, don't touch that! I forbid you to enter my clean kitchen. Wipe your feet, and take those boxes off there!"
"Put the boxes in the dining-room," ordered Aurelle, to conciliate her.
"Thank you! Put your dirty boxes in my dining-room, with my beautiful table and my fine dresser! I should think so, indeed!"
"But, in heaven's name, madame," said Aurelle, quietly, "where shall I put them?"
He half opened a door at the end of the dining-room.