And, in a melodramatic tone, making the final letter of the word roll:
"Don't tru-us-st her!"
Frederick, emboldened by a confidence of this sort, tried to kiss her on the neck.
"Oh, do it! It costs nothing!"
He felt rather light-hearted as he left her, having no doubt that ere long the Maréchale would be his mistress. This desire awakened another in him; and, in spite of the species of grudge that he owed her, he felt a longing to see Madame Arnoux.
Besides, he would have to call at her house in order to execute the commission with which he had been entrusted by Rosanette.
"But now," thought he (it had just struck six), "Arnoux is probably at home."
So he put off his visit till the following day.
She was seated in the same attitude as on the former day, and was sewing a little boy's shirt.
The child, at her feet, was playing with a wooden toy menagerie. Marthe, a short distance away, was writing.