"Can I get you anything? A little of the best?"
"No, thank you; I do not drink," replies Marie, who, however, seeing that the tavern is empty, enters for fear lest her little Pierre should catch cold. "But if I am in your way. . . ."
Surely not, she was not in Madame Pétavin's way at all. Madame Pétavin had a kind heart and made her sit down.
Presently Madame Quéméneur and Madame Kerdoncuff, among the first to be paid, enter, shut up their umbrellas, and sit down.
"Madame! Madame! Bring us half a pint in two glasses."
No need to ask half a pint of what. Brandy, and raw brandy at that, is what they crave.
These good ladies begin to talk:
"What did you say your husband was, on the Kerguelen, Madame Quéméneur?"
"He's a leading seaman, Madame Kerdoncuff."
"And mine, too, you know, is a leading seaman, Madame Quéméneur! Wives of leading seamen ought to be friends! Here's to you, Victoire-Yvonne!"