“Of course not! Quite the contrary.... They will be delighted.”
She knocked at a side door.
“What is it?” the voice of M. Raindal grunted.
“A visitor!”
She made way for the younger woman. Thérèse lifted her head at the sound and rose from the table at the same time as her father.
“It is Mme. Chambannes who comes to inquire after you, dear,” Mme. Raindal explained.
Thérèse, whose lips were already pursed with vexation, attempted a smile.
“Oh, you are too kind, dear Madame.... It was not worth it....”
M. Raindal joined his grateful protestations to those of his daughter. Mme. Raindal excused herself and returned to her visitors. As on the previous day, at the ball, when he had been introduced to Zozé, the master stood still, embarrassed. At length he said:
“Wo you sit down, please?”