“It seems so,” replied Julie, raising her head. “You see, she did all she could to catch him. Hippolyte came from the drawing-room so disgusted, that he almost had an attack of indigestion.”
“If we were only to do a quarter as much!” resumed Lisa.
But she disappeared a moment, to drink some broth that Victoire brought her. They got on well together, nursing each other’s vices, the maid hiding the cook’s drunkenness, and the cook facilitating the maid’s outings, from which the latter returned quite worn out, her limbs aching, her eyelids blue.
“Ah! my children,” said Victoire leaning out in her turn, her elbows touching Lisa’s, “you’re young. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen! At old Campardon’s, there was a niece who had been well brought up, and who used to go and look at the men through the key-hole.”
“Pretty goings-on!” murmured Julie with the horrified air of a lady. “Had I been in the place of the little one of the fourth floor, I’d have boxed Monsieur Auguste’s ears, if he’d touched me in the drawing-room! He’s a fine fellow!”
At these words, a shrill laugh issued from Madame Juzeur’s kitchen. Lisa, who was opposite, searched the room with a glance, and caught sight of Louise, whose precocious fifteen years took a delight in listening to the other servants.
“She’s spying on us from morning to night, the chit,” said she. “How stupid it is to thrust a child upon us! We sha’n’t be able to talk at all soon.”
She did not finish. The sound of a suddenly opened window chased them away. A profound silence ensued. But they ventured to look out again. Eh! what! what was the matter? They had thought that Madame Valérie or Madame Josserand was going to catch them.
“No fear!” resumed Lisa. “They’re all soaking in their washhand basins. They’re too busy with their skins, to think of bothering us. It’s the only moment in all the day when one can breathe freely.”
“So it still goes on the same at your place?” asked Julie, who was paring a carrot.