And as she turned round, she observed Geneviève on the threshold of the dining-room. "Be quiet!" she said rapidly.
But it was too late, Geneviève must have heard, for her face was white and bloodless. Just at that moment a customer opened the door—Madame Bourdelais, one of the last faithful customers of The Old Elbeuf, where she found substantial goods for her money. For a long time past Madame de Boves had followed the fashion, and gone over to The Ladies' Paradise; Madame Marty also no longer came, being entirely subjugated by the fascinations of the display opposite. And Geneviève was forced to come forward, and inquire in her weak voice:
"What do you desire, madame?"
Madame Bourdelais wished to see some flannel. Colomban took down a roll from a shelf. Geneviève showed the stuff; and once again the young people found themselves close together behind the counter. Meanwhile Baudu came out of the dining-room, behind his wife, who went to seat herself at the pay-desk. At first he did not meddle with the sale, but after smiling at Denise stood there, looking at Madame Bourdelais.
"It is not good enough," said the latter. "Show me the thickest you have."
Colomban took down another bundle. There was a silence. Madame Bourdelais examined the stuff.
"How much?" she asked.
"Six francs, madame," replied Geneviève.
The lady made an abrupt gesture. "Six francs!" said she. "But they have the same opposite at five francs."
A slight contraction passed over Baudu's face. He could not help interfering politely. No doubt madame made a mistake, indeed the stuff ought to have been sold at six francs and a half; it was impossible to sell it at five francs. It must be another quality that she was referring to.