The driver was going to refuse, out of prudence, when the fireman abruptly accepted, influenced by the idea of watching them, and so making quite sure of their feelings towards one another. Entering the kitchen they seated themselves at the table, on which Philomène placed glasses and a bottle of brandy, saying in a low tone:
"Try not to make too much noise, because my brother is asleep upstairs, and he is not very pleased when I receive friends."
Then, as she filled their glasses, she immediately added:
"By the way, you know that Mother Lebleu pegged out this morning? Oh! as to that I said so: it will kill her, I said, if they put her in that lodging on the back—a regular prison! Still she lasted four months, chewing the cud of bitterness, because she could see nothing but zinc. And what gave her the finishing stroke, when she found it impossible to move from her armchair, was assuredly the knowledge that she would never more be able to keep watch on Mademoiselle Guichon and Monsieur Dabadie. It was a habit she had got. Yes, she was enraged at never having been able to catch them, and she died of it."
Philomène paused to toss off a thimbleful of brandy, and resumed with a laugh:
"Of course there is something going on between them. Only they are too sharp! It is quite a puzzle! All the same, I think little Madame Moulin saw them one night. But there is no fear of her talking, she is too stupid; and, besides, her husband, the assistant station-master——"
Again she broke off to exclaim:
"I say, it is next week that the Roubaud case comes on for trial at Rouen!"
Until then, Jacques and Pecqueux had listened to her without putting in a word. The latter simply thought her very talkative. Never had she exerted her conversational powers to such an extent with him; and he kept his eyes on her, becoming little by little heated by jealousy at seeing her so excited in the presence of his chief.
"Yes," answered the driver, in a perfectly tranquil manner, "I received the summons."