“Well, we shall see,” returned Firmin, who, seeing Catherine, immediately approached her.
“Ah, good-day, Madame Barrau. Are you well? I perceive that you are charming as ever.”
Blushing a little at this bold overture, Catherine answered quietly with a word. Firmin assumed such an offensive manner toward her that, obliged to treat it as insolence, she prepared to leave. Firmin, too, showed his intention to depart.
“Au revoir,” said he. “Thanks for your advice, Monsieur.”
Catherine, with disgust, turning to go, observed near the door old Jeannille, who was staring at her with cold, penetrating eyes.
Catherine again changed color. “It seems as though she were playing the spy on me,” she thought. “Can it be that my husband has put a watch over me? If I knew that to be the fact——”
Always impulsive, Catherine now imagined the worst. She fancied she had discovered a plot in which everybody was arrayed against her. “This is the third time I have caught that old hag watching me as if she would read my thoughts.”
Firmin, meanwhile, was walking by her side.
“Go away,” said Catherine disdainfully. “One would think you had taken it upon yourself to compromise me.”
The man certainly was a sot, but he possessed an enormous amount of vanity. Catherine’s words therefore flattered his self-conceit.