"Yes, at the outside. It's your father and M. Jorancé who play the star parts."
Marthe had entered and caught his last words, which he had spoken aloud, and was answering him with a laugh.
She put her arm around his neck with the fond gesture usual to her and said:
"Yes, Philippe, you need not worry yourself. Your evidence is of no importance and cannot influence events in any way. You can be very sure of that."
Their faces were quite close together and Philippe read nothing but gaiety and affection in Marthe's eyes.
He understood that she had ascribed his behaviour of the previous day, his first, false version, his reticence and his confusion to scruples of conscience and vague apprehensions. Anxious about the consequences of the business and dreading lest his testimony might complicate it, he had tried to avoid the annoyance of giving evidence.
"I believe you're right," he said, with a view to confirming her in her mistake. "Besides, is the business so very serious?"
They talked together for a few minutes and, gradually, while watching her, he changed the subject to the Jorancés:
"Has Suzanne been this morning?"