She stared. “I know, citizen.”
“Certainly, citizeness, but does he? Ask him.”
Condorcet had not heard this conversation which was spoken very low and in the patois of the neighbourhood; he feared, however, that it might be about him, and was therefore relieved to hear the simple question the woman put to him when she returned to his little table by the window.
“How many eggs will you have to your omelette, citizen?”
“A dozen,” answered the Marquis.
He saw instantly by the expression of the woman’s face that he had said the wrong thing.
“A dozen eggs!” she echoed.
“Is not that the right number, citizeness?”
She retreated from him and went to the other two men with amazement and suspicion in her face.