Trouche, who had not yet gone to bed, was examining the bottles on the dressing-table.
'She has got all kinds of scents,' he said.
'Well, as she isn't here, we may just as well treat ourselves to the best room!' continued Olympe. 'There's no danger of her coming back and disturbing us. I have fastened the doors up. You will be getting cold, Honoré.'
But Trouche now opened the drawers and began groping about amongst the linen.
'Put this on, it's smothered with lace,' he said, tossing a night-dress to Olympe. 'I shall wear this red handkerchief myself.'
Then, as Trouche was at last getting into bed, Olympe said to him:
'Put the grog on the night-table. We need not get up and go to the other end of the room for it. There, my dear, we are like real householders now!'
They lay down side by side, with the eider-down quilt drawn up to their chins.
'I ate a deuced lot this evening,' said Trouche after a short pause.
'And drank a lot, too!' added Olympe with a laugh. 'I feel very cosy and snug. But the tiresome part is that my mother is always interfering with us. She has been quite awful to-day. I can't take a single step about the house without her being at me. There's really no advantage in our landlady going off if mother means to play the policeman. She has quite spoilt my day's enjoyment.'