“Still the same,” replied Victoire. “It’s all over, she’s no more use.”
“But your big noodle of an architect, what does he do then?”
“Takes up with the cousin, of course!”
They were laughing louder than ever, when they beheld the new servant, Françoise, in Madame Valérie’s kitchen. It was she who had caused the alarm, by opening the window. At first there was an exchange of politeness.
“Ah! it’s you, mademoiselle.”
“Why, yes, mademoiselle. I am trying to make myself at home, but this kitchen is so filthy!”
Then came scraps of abominable information.
“You will be more than constant, if you remain there long. The last one had her arms all scratched by the child, and madame worked her so hard, that we could hear her crying from here.”
“Ah well! that won’t last long with me,” said Françoise. “Thanks all the same, mademoiselle.”
“Where is she, your missus?” asked Victoire curiously.