“Ah!” said Madame Marty, “you're looking at some cravats and handkerchiefs like those I showed you the other day.”
It was true, Madame de Boves, tormented by Madame Marty's lace since the previous Saturday, had been unable to resist the desire to at least handle some like it, as the allowance her husband made her did not permit her to carry any away. She blushed slightly, explaining that Blanche wanted to see the Spanish-blonde cravats. Then she added: “You're going to the ready-made department—Well! we'll see you again. Shall we say in the oriental saloon?”
“That's it, in the oriental saloon—Superb, isn't it?”
And they separated enraptured, amidst the obstruction produced by the sale of the insertions and small trimmings at low prices. Deloche, glad to be occupied, recommenced emptying the boxes before the mother and daughter. And amidst the groups pressed along the counters, Jouve, the inspector, was slowly walking about with his military air, displaying his decoration, watching over these fine and precious goods, so easy to conceal up a sleeve. When he passed behind Madame de Boves, surprised to see her with her arms plunged in such a heap of lace he cast a quick glance at her feverish hands.
“To the right, ladies,” said Hutin, resuming his march.
He was beside himself with rage. Was it not enough that he had missed a sale down below? Now they kept him waiting at each turning of the shop! And in his annoyance there was a strong feeling of the rancour existing between the textile departments and the ready-made departments, which were in continual hostility, fighting over the customers, stealing each other's percentage and commission. Those of the silk department were more enraged than those of the woollen, whenever they were obliged to show a lady to where the ready-made articles were kept, when she decided to take a mantle after looking at various sorts of silk.
“Mademoiselle Vadon!” said Hutin, in an angry voice, when he at last arrived in the department.
But she passed by without listening, absorbed in a sale which she was conducting. The room was full, a stream of people were crossing it, coming in by the door of the lace department and going out by the door of the under-clothing department, whilst to the right customers were trying on garments, and posing before the glasses. The red carpet stifled the noise of the footsteps, the distant roar from the ground-floor died away, giving place to a discreet murmur, a drawing-room warmth deadened by the crowd of women.
“Mademoiselle Prunaire!” cried out Hutin. And as she took no notice either, he added between his teeth, so as not to be heard: “A set of frights!”
He certainly was not fond of them, tired to death as he was by climbing the stairs to bring them customers, furious at the profits which he accused them of taking out of his pocket It was a secret war, in which the young ladies themselves entered with equal fierceness; and in their mutual fatigue, always on foot, worked to death, all difference of sex disappeared, nothing remained but these contrary interests, irritated by the fever of business.