A man, whose entrance they had not perceived, now called out from the adjoining room:
"Is no one here? Is there no dinner to be had?"
Eléonore, glad of the interruption, passed between her brother and father, and they heard her laugh to appease the customer. François drew the soup-tureen towards him, and put in the ladle.
"You must not mind my helping myself," he said to his father, who remained sitting at the window behind him, "I have only got a quarter of an hour; it's a long way to the station. I shall be fined," and between the mouthfuls of soup he asked in a softened voice: "You have not given me news of Rousille. Is she quite well? And Mathurin, does he still imagine that he will be all right again? He who always was so keen on being master at La Fromentière did nothing to keep André back, I suppose?"
Toussaint Lumineau rose abruptly, unable longer to control his anger.
"You are a couple of ungrateful children, both of you!" he exclaimed in a loud voice. "Stay in your town!" and going out of the kitchen, he crossed the café before the eyes of the sickly-looking mechanic, and of Eléonore, who, terrified, leant forward:
"I told you so, poor father. I told you he would not! I knew it. Still, au revoir."
Then to François who was following him:
"You are going with him to the station."
He shook his head.