She put out her feet toward Germinie, who was kneeling in front of the fireplace, and laughingly placed them under her nose: "Do you know that that takes no small amount of philosophy—to wear stockings out at heel! Simpleton! I'm not scolding you; I know well enough that you can't do everything. So you might as well have a woman come to do the mending. That's not very much to do. Why don't you speak to that little girl that came here last year? She had a face that I remember."
"Oh! she's black as a mole, mademoiselle."
"Bah! I knew it. In the first place you never think well of anybody. That isn't true, you say? Why, wasn't she a niece of Mère Jupillon's? We might take her for one or two days a week."
"That hussy shall never set foot here."
"Nonsense, more fables! You're a most astonishing creature, to adore people and then not want to see them again. What has she done to you?"
"She's a lost creature, I tell you!"
"Bah! what does my linen care for that?"
"But, mademoiselle."
"All right! find me someone else then. I don't care about her particularly. But find me someone."
"Oh! the women that come in like that don't do any work. I'll mend your clothes. You don't need any one."