"If Monsieur Mouret is not satisfied, I should like to know what more he wants," added the first-hand. "See! he's fuming over there, at the top of the grand staircase."
The young ladies went to look at him. He was standing alone, with a sombre countenance, above the millions scattered at his feet.
"Madame," said Denise, at this moment, "would you kindly let me go away now? I can't do anything more on account of my foot, and as I am to dine at my uncle's with my brothers——"
They were all astonished. She had not yielded, then! Madame Aurélie hesitated, and speaking in a sharp and disagreeable voice, seemed inclined to forbid her going out; whilst Clara shrugged her shoulders, full of incredulity. When Pauline learnt the news, she was in the baby-linen department with Deloche, and the sudden joy exhibited by the young man made her very angry. As for Bourdoncle, who did not dare to approach Mouret in his savage isolation, he marched up and down amidst these rumours, in despair also, and full of anxiety. However, Denise went down. As she slowly reached the bottom of the left-hand staircase, leaning on the banister, she came upon a group of grinning salesmen. Her name was pronounced, and she realized that they were talking about her adventure. They had not noticed her descent.
"Oh! all that's put on, you know," Favier was saying. "She's full of vice! Yes, I know some one whom she set her eyes on."
And thereupon he glanced at Hutin, who, in order to preserve his dignity as second-hand, was standing a short distance away without joining in their conversation. However, he was so flattered by the envious air with which the others contemplated him, that he deigned to murmur: "She was a regular nuisance to me, was that girl!"
Denise, wounded to the heart, clung to the banister. They must have seen her, for they all disappeared, laughing. He was right, she thought, and she reproached herself for her former ignorance, when she had been wont to think of him. But what a coward he was, and how she scorned him now! A great trouble had come upon her; was it not strange that she should have found the strength just now to repulse a man whom she adored, when she had felt herself so feeble in bygone days before that worthless fellow, whom she had only dreamed of? Her sense of reason and her bravery foundered in these contradictions of her being, which she could not clearly read. Then she hastened to cross the hall but a sort of instinct prompted her to raise her head, whilst an inspector was opening the door, closed since the morning. And still at the top of the stairs, on the great central landing dominating the gallery, she perceived Mouret. He had quite forgotten the stock-taking, he no longer beheld his empire, that building bursting with riches. Everything had disappeared, his former uproarious victories, his future colossal fortune. With a desponding look he was watching Denise and when she had crossed the threshold everything disappeared, a darkness came over the house.
[CHAPTER XI.]
That day, Bouthemont was the first to arrive at Madame Desforges's four o'clock tea. Waiting alone in her large Louis XVI. drawing-room, the brasses and brocatel of which shone with a clear gaiety, she rose with an air of impatience, saying, "Well?"