The men shook hands, Etienne smiling one of his broad, slow smiles.
“Tiens, but you have a front door!”
Manon had not noticed it, for she had been looking at Paul.
“Mon Dieu, so we have! A real door! When did you finish it?”
“Last night.”
“Let me see how it opens and shuts.”
She ran up the steps of the raised path, and tried the door like a child playing with a new toy.
“And it has a lock and bolts!”
Etienne stood and stared at the house, still smiling that slow, country smile. He was easily astonished, and the Café de la Victoire astonished him.
“You must have worked like the devil,” he said.