Céline poured forth a mixture of French and English, expressive of her contrition and horror at having "almost overturned madame," and wound up by saying, "Madame has been to my room? Madame has desired some service, perhaps? If so, she has only to command."
Cora drew a breath of relief, having sufficiently recovered from the collision and accompanying confusion, to draw a breath of any kind, and at once rallied her forces.
"Yes, Céline, I wanted you to do something for me, if you will."
"Anything, madame."
Madame was collecting her thoughts. "I—I wanted to ask if you could find time to come to my room and try and do something with my hair. Your hair-dressing is perfect, and I am so tired of my own."
Céline would be only too happy. Should she come now? She had just returned from the village; she would put off her hat and be at madame's disposal. But madame was not inclined to be manipulated just then. Céline might come to her dressing room and do her hair for dinner—after she was done with Miss Arthur, of course.
So they separated, mutually satisfied.