He hurried away from his friend's rooms, went home, shut himself in his office, paid no heed to his charwoman, who told him that several clients had come to inquire for him, neglected all the business that had been entrusted to him, and when the persons who had employed him came to find out how their affairs were progressing, he stared at them with a dazed expression and replied:
"What? what is it? what do you want?"
"That little matter of mine, monsieur—what condition is it in?"
"What's that?—what matter? I don't know anything about it."
"What! you don't know anything about it! Do you mean to say that you haven't attended to it?"
"Apparently not."
"In that case, monsieur, if you don't propose to attend to it, I will employ another agent."
"As you please; it's all the same to me."
"Indeed! it's all the same to you, is it? Then give me my papers, instantly!"
Chamoureau gave up the papers, the clients went away in a rage, and the office gradually became deserted. Chamoureau passed the day seated at his desk, with his head resting on his hands.