"What's that got to do with it, they're fish, ain't they?"
The young woman left the table and went into the adjoining room, a small drawing-room, elegantly furnished in Louis XV style.
"Justine," she called.
"Madame."
"Here's another mistake. You mustn't get red orchids. Throw these out.... I want either mauve or yellow ones.... You know those are the official colors of His Majesty."
"Queer taste his ... His Majesty has for yellow."
"What's that to do with you. Get a move on, lay the table."
"I left the pâté de foie gras in the pantry with ice round it."
"All right."
The young woman returned to the dining-room and gave a final glance at the preparations.