'You've come for news, haven't you?' she asked. 'Well, I've just heard something.'
Then she got up and dismissed Antonia, who went away leaving the comb stuck in her mistress's hair. Clorinde was doubtless afraid of being overheard, for laying her hand on the banker's shoulder and, standing on tip-toe, she whispered something in his ear. As he listened to her, he nodded his head briskly.
'There!' concluded the young woman, raising her voice. 'You can go now.'
But the banker took hold of her bare arm and brought her back towards him to ask for certain explanations. He could not have been more at his ease if he had been talking to one of his clerks, instead of to this beautiful woman in deshabille. When he left her, he invited her to dine at his house on the following day. His wife was very anxious to see her again, he said. She accompanied him to the door, but all at once crossed her arms over her bosom and turned very red as she exclaimed: 'Good gracious! I was actually about to go out with you like this!'
She now began to scold Antonia for being so slow. She would never get finished! she cried; and then she scarcely gave the girl time to dress her hair, saying that she hated being so long over her toilette. In spite of the time of the year, she insisted upon wearing a long robe of black velvet, a sort of loose blouse, drawn in at the waist with a red silk girdle. Twice already, a servant had come to tell her that dinner was served. However, as she passed through her bedroom, she found three gentlemen there, of whose presence no one had had the slightest idea. They were the three political refugees, Signori Brambilla, Staderino, and Viscardi. Clorinde, however, showed no surprise at meeting them.
'Have you been waiting for me long?' she asked.
'Yes, yes,' they replied, gently nodding their heads.
They had arrived before the banker, but had remained extremely quiet, for political misfortunes had made them taciturn and reflective. They were seated side by side on the same couch, all three lolling in much the same position, with big extinguished cigars between their lips. But they now rose and clustered round Clorinde, and a rapid muttering in Italian ensued. The young woman seemed to be giving them instructions. One of the refugees took notes in cipher in a pocket-book, while the others, appearing much excited by what they heard, stifled slight cries with their gloved hands. Then they all three went off in single file, with quite impenetrable faces.
That Thursday evening it had been arranged that several of the ministers should confer together on a very important financial matter. When Delestang went off after dinner, he told Clorinde that he would bring Rougon back with him, at which his wife made a little grimace which seemed to imply that she was not very anxious to see her whilom master. There was as yet no positive break in their friendship, but the young woman showed an increasing coldness towards Rougon.