I hastened to reply that I was entirely at her service; my heart beat fast with joy, for I thought that the two sisters were going away at last. But the younger said, as she drew her cloak about her:
"Oh! we have time enough; it isn't three o'clock. Your people won't come so early; we don't dine at three!"
"But they are provincials, my dear, and they think it's more polite to come and bore us two hours ahead of time."
"So much the worse for them! I am going to stay here until my watch says three o'clock."
"Obstinate!—You see, monsieur, she is younger than I am, and I always have to give way to her."
I was strongly tempted to reply that she did very wrong to give way. But I contented myself with tearing savagely at whatever I found in my pocket. There are times when one vents one's spleen on whatever happens to be at hand.
Suddenly we heard sounds of a dispute; the sounds drew nearer and came to a standstill about ten yards behind us, and a man's voice, which, although a little hoarse, rang out like a clarinet, cried:
"I tell you, you shan't go off like that! I've been looking for you long enough. It ain't an easy job to run you to earth; but I've got you now, and I'll hang on to you!"
"Come, come, no nonsense, Père Piaulard!" replied another voice; "you shouldn't insult a friend. I'm a friend, and you're a friend; you're an old friend, an old fellow I respect. Don't shake me like that! Cré coquin! I don't like to be shook!"
The tones of this second voice struck me as familiar; I could not say at once of whom they reminded me, yet I was conscious of a vague feeling of alarm, of apprehension; I listened anxiously for what was to come.