"Well, Pecqueux, I shall see you again, later on!" said Philomène saucily. "I'll leave you now, as M. Roubaud has a moral lecture to read you, on behalf of his wife."
Pecqueux, who was a good-natured fellow, continued laughing.
"No, no, stay," he answered. "He's only joking."
"I can't," retorted Philomène. "I must run and take these two eggs from my hens, to Madame Lebleu, to whom I promised them."
She had purposely let fly this name, being aware of the secret rivalry between the wife of the cashier, and the wife of the assistant station-master, affecting to be on the best of terms with the former, so as to enrage the other. But she remained, nevertheless, becoming all at once interested, when she heard the fireman inquiring for news of the affair with the sub-prefect.
"So it's all settled; and you're very glad of it, are you not, M. Roubaud?" inquired Pecqueux.
"Very pleased indeed," answered the assistant station-master.
Pecqueux gave a cunning wink.
"Oh! you had no need to be anxious," said he, "because when one has a big-wig behind one, eh? You know who I mean. My wife also is very grateful to him."
The assistant station-master interrupted this allusion to President Grandmorin, by abruptly remarking: