"I know--but she won't take it back." Haidee flung the shoulder despondently upon the table. But Val's monkey was up, and she was determined not to be outdone by the cunning little Norman woman. Also it seemed to her by now that if she offered the children that shoulder of lamb she would be offering them poisoned meat. She hated it. She would rather have eaten sea-sand. With trembling hands she arranged across her forehead the chi-chi that M. Poiret had made for her out of her own hair (the first time she had availed herself of it), put on a deep hat, tied a motor veil over all, then with Bran held by one hand and the shoulder of lamb in the other she set out to do battle with Mother Durand. Haidee, though sick of the subject, accompanied the expedition out of curiosity.
The little red-cheeked, hard-eyed woman--a typical shrewd Normandy peasant--was alone in the shop, tidying up her lard-bowls with a large flat knife.
"Madame Durand!" said Val, controlling her voice as best she could. "About this shoulder of lamb....?"
"Yes, madame! What about it?"
"You must take it back ... I do not care for freshly-killed meat...." She began to stumble with her French. "Not good for the stomach .... very hard ... wicked ... no good .... il faut give me back my six francs."
"But not at all, madame ... the meat is good ... superbe ... there is nothing the matter with it. I asked mademoiselle if she was willing I should cut from the freshly-killed lamb, and she said yes.... Alors?"
"Oh! How can you say so, Madame Durand?" cried Haidee indignantly. "I had no idea you were cutting it from a lamb all hot."
"Mademoiselle finds it very convenient to say that now ... très commode! But my husband and daughter were in the shop, and heard mademoiselle ask to have it cut from the lamb."
"Oh, Val! don't you believe it ... the old liar!" Haidee did not pick her words when indignant.
"In any case I will not have it back ... you can take it or leave it, madame," the old woman smiled the smile of one who plays a winning game.