She threw herself upon it; with her teeth and nails she worried it as a dog worries a rabbit-skin; she danced on it and tore it, she bit upon it and made her teeth meet through it, she ripped the buttons off with her mouth and spat them about the floor, and then she kicked it round the room and stamped on it, and beat it with her fist, kneeling upon it, with her head forward, and her grey hairs falling over her face and concealing it.
The sight was horrible and revolting, and Gabrielle interfered.
'Madame! dearest mistress,' she said, drawing her hands away from the now tattered vestment, 'you are quite mistaken. Indeed you are wrong. M. Berthier has not sent me here; he does not know that I have come here. I have walked all the way to Paris to see you, and to bring you your cat.'
'My cat, where is he?' the poor woman exclaimed, starting to her knees, and looking round. Then, catching sight of the yellow creature, she held out her hands to him, and addressed endearing terms to him. Gabriel was frightened, and had mounted the table, where he stood with his tail erect, staring at his excited mistress.
The peasantess took the opportunity of a change in the direction of the thoughts of Madame Plomb to remove the garment she had misused, and to hide it.
After the stream of passionate expressions addressed to the cat had ceased to flow with the same copiousness and rapidity as at first, Gabrielle knelt before madame, and laid her hands on her lap.
'Madame,' she said, 'are you tired of being here?'
'Oh, Gabrielle,' answered Madame Berthier, 'it is dreadful. Always the same white, white walls. Always the same red, red floor. There is positively never a bit of colour fit to be seen to refresh one's eyes, except of a sunny evening, when a streak of fire comes slanting in at that window, and it falls on the wall, and paints a line of orange. I sit for hours, and wait for it. I say to myself—a few minutes longer, and then I shall see it. First it comes down on the floor, but the red tiles spoil it; then it begins to crawl, like a brilliant fiery caterpillar, up the chalky wall; I laugh and sing with delight till it reaches the roof, and then it is gone. If you sit just there, you can see a bit of blue sky, but I take no account of that; I wait for the streak of yellow flame. What were you saying to me just now?'
'You are very tired of being here, dear lady.'
'Weary of my life. I cannot bear it. I have no one to take the strings off my fingers; and then, I have been deprived of Gabriel. But I have had another pet.'