“Presently,” replied Denise, who was nibbling at a crust, determined to wait till the last, so as to be able to see Robineau on going upstairs.
However, when she found herself alone with Jouve she felt uneasy, so she quitted the table; but as she was going towards the door he stopped her saying: “Mademoiselle Baudu——”
Standing before her, he smiled with a paternal air. His thick grey moustache and short cropped hair gave him a respectable military appearance; and he threw out his chest, on which was displayed the red ribbon of his decoration.
“What is it, Monsieur Jouve?” asked she, feeling reassured. “I caught you again this morning talking upstairs behind the carpet department You know it is not allowed, and if I reported you—— She must be very fond of you, your friend Pauline.” His moustache quivered, a flame lighted up his enormous nose. “What makes you so fond of each other, eh?” Denise, without understanding, was again becoming seized with an uneasy feeling. He was getting too close, and was speaking right in her face.
“It's true we were talking, Monsieur Jouve,” she stammered, “but there's no harm in talking a bit. You are very good to me, and I'm very much obliged to you.”
“I ought not to be good,” said he. “Justice, and nothing more, is my motto. But when it's a pretty girl——”
And he came closer still, and she felt really afraid. Pauline's words came back to her memory; she now remembered the stories going about, stories of girls terrified by old Jouve into buying his good-will. In the shop, as a rule, he confined himself to little familiarities, such as pinching the cheeks of the complaisant young ladies with his fat fingers, taking their hands in his and keeping them there as if he had forgotten them. This was very paternal, and he only gave way to his real nature outdoors, when they consented to accept a little refreshment at his place in the Rue des Moineaux.
“Leave me alone,” murmured the young girl, drawing back. “Come,” said he, “you are not going to play the savage with me, who always treats you well. Be amiable, come and take a cup of tea and a slice of bread-and-butter with me this evening. You are very welcome.”
She was struggling now. “No! no!”
The dining room was empty, the waiter had not come back. Jouve, listening for the sound of any footsteps, cast a rapid glance around him; and, very excited, losing control over himself, going beyond his fatherly familiarities, he tried to kiss her on the neck.