"That's all," said Nance solemnly.
"Oh yes, without a doubt, that's all. I think I'll ask him next time I see him. Why doesn't he go home for his dinner like other people?"
"He's living at Plaisance now and it's far to go. He used to live here, you know."
"Ma foi, no, I didn't know. He used to live here? And why did he go to Plaisance then?"
"We hadn't room for him, you see."
"But, Mon Dieu, we have room and to spare! There are those two bedrooms empty. Why shouldn't he—"
But Nance shook her head at that.
"Why then?" demanded Mrs. Tom, with visions of some one besides Tom to talk to of an evening—a good-looking, sensible one too. "Why?"
"He and Tom don't get on well together—"
"Pardi, I'm not surprised at that. It would need an angel out of heaven to get on with him sometimes. What induced me ever to marry such a grumbler I don't know. I wonder if Monsieur What-is-it?—Gard—would come back if I could arrange it?"