The countrywoman and the neighbor had followed her.
"Come! come!" cried the former in a rage, "do you intend to pay me, after all?"
"Ask the master for the money," ironically answered the woman from the next door, pointing to the joiner, who had just fallen against the counter.
The countrywoman looked at him.
"Ah! he is the father," returned she. "Well, what idle beggars! not to have a penny to pay honest people; and get tipsy with wine in that way."
The drunkard raised his head.
"What! what!" stammered he; "who is it that talks of wine? I've had nothing but brandy! But I am going back again to get some wine! Wife, give me your money; there are some friends waiting for me at the 'Pere la Tuille'."
Genevieve did not answer: he went round the counter, opened the till, and began to rummage in it.
"You see where the money of the house goes!" observed the neighbor to the countrywoman; "how can the poor unhappy woman pay you when he takes all?"
"Is that my fault?" replied the nurse, angrily. "They owe to me, and somehow or other they must pay me!"