Then he railed against the workman, who had almost been the cause of his being caught on the servants’ staircase, and all his dirty fuss about women. He had been obliged to come round by the grand staircase. And, as he made off, he added:
“Remember, it is next Thursday that I am going to take you to see Duveyrier’s mistress. We will dine together.”
The house resumed it’s peacefulness, lapsing into that religious silence which seemed to issue from its chaste alcoves. Octave had rejoined Marie in the inner chamber at the side of the conjugal couch, where she was arranging the pillows. Upstairs, the chair being littered with the washhand basin and an old pair of shoes, Trublot sat down on Adèle’s narrow bed, and waited in his dress clothes and his white tie. When he recognised Julie’s step as she came up to bed, he held his breath, having a constant dread of women’s quarrels. At length Adèle appeared. She was in a temper, and went for him at once.
“I say, you! you might treat me a bit better, when I wait at table!”
“How, treat you better?”
“Why of course you don’t even look at me, you never say if you please, when you ask for bread. For instance, this evening when I handed round the veal, you had a way of disowning me. I’ve had enough of it, look you! All the house badgers me with its nonsense. It’s too much, if you’re going to join the others!”
Whilst this was taking place, the workman in the next room, not yet sobered, talked to himself in so loud a voice that every one on that landing could hear him.
“Well! it’s funny all the same, that a fellow can’t sleep with his wife! No woman allowed in the house, you fussy old idiot! Just go now and poke your nose into all the rooms, and see what you’ll see?”
CHAPTER VII.
For a fortnight past, with the view of getting uncle Bachelard to give Berthe a dowry, the Josserands had been inviting him to dinner almost every evening, in spite of his offensive habits.