Surprised by the sudden appearance of the old dowager, Julien, who had never seen her, rose from his chair, thinking that she had come from the street and that she wished to give him an order. That red-faced, panting apparition, angular and repellent, caused him more displeasure than hope.
"Here is a person who will haggle like a pawnbroker," he thought rapidly, "unless indeed she is a female pawnbroker herself."
The lady's shabby costume in nowise indicated her rank and her wealth.
"Are you alone here?" she asked, without any sort of salutation.
Marcel and the notary appeared, and Julien's wondering eyes questioned the former, who made haste to reply:
"Madame desires to purchase this pavilion, and——"
"I don't need to be introduced to this gentleman," retorted the marchioness, sharply, "and I am quite able to explain myself."
"In that case, madame," laughed Julien, "this gentleman awaits your orders."
"I asked you a question," continued the marchioness in nowise disconcerted; "I will make it more distinct. Where did the Comtesse d'Estrelle go?"
Julien started back; Marcel, seeking to avoid an absurd scene, hastily motioned to him and touched his forehead with his finger, to indicate that the woman's mind was deranged.