“Who has been here to-day?”
“No one. A few have passed the door, but no one has entered.”
“Good business!” said Bouvier, shrugging his shoulders.
“Business!” exclaimed Lemaire, with an oath. “It’s a fine business we do here. Another ten years, and we shan’t have put by ten sous.”
“Perhaps that is why madame has such a face to-night!”
“We’ll see at supper. Now for an absinthe!”
The two men walked stiffly into the inn, put their guns in a corner, went into the arbour that fronted the desert, and sat down by the table.
“Marie!” bawled Lemaire.
He struck his flabby fist down upon the wood.
“Marie, the absinthe!”