"Let us hope that we shall never reach that point."
"However, I am fully persuaded that he did not consider us agreeable, because we failed to laugh at what he said."
Not five minutes after the former dealer in wines had taken his leave, Poucette announced that Monsieur Jarnouillard desired to know if he could see the ladies.
"This is our day for callers," said Honorine; "let us see Monsieur Jarnouillard; he is married, and he comes first, which surprises me; he must be anxious to know us.—Show the gentleman in."
The newcomer was a man of some fifty years, very thin, very ugly, and very slovenly in his dress, although it was plain that he had tried to make himself clean for his visit to his neighbors. He wore a cravat that was almost white, and a shirt collar almost black; a long redingote, which fell to his heels, and might at need be used as a dressing-gown; shoes half blacked; and a broad-brimmed straw hat like those worn by women who work in the fields.
Monsieur Jarnouillard had a long, pointed nose, a square, protruding chin, prominent cheek-bones, tawny, furtive eyes, thin, compressed lips and an earth-colored complexion, like one who deems any sort of ablution superfluous.
All this formed an ensemble which did not prepossess one in his favor.
He bowed almost to the floor as he entered the room, as if he were executing a Turkish salaam. But even while he saluted the two young women before him, his eyes found time to make the circuit of the room in which they received him, to scrutinize each article of furniture, and perhaps to estimate its value.
"Mesdames, pray permit me to pay my respects," said Monsieur Jarnouillard in a clear, metallic voice, pronouncing every syllable distinctly. "Jarnouillard, land-owner and annuitant; it is several years since I retired from business and came to this place to live, with my wife. She will come to pay her respects to you; she did not come with me to-day because we have a stew for dinner and she had to stay at home to watch it; we have no servant, my wife does everything; it amuses her and distracts her thoughts. I have asked her several times: 'Do you want a maid? if so, take one.'—But she replies: 'Indeed I will not! to have everything stolen!'—It is true that servants are a vile lot; one is very lucky when one can do without them."
"Since it suits yourself and your wife, monsieur, you are very sensible to adopt that course; one should always follow one's own tastes, and not worry about what people may say."