The Cointets saw the advertisement. “That little woman has a head on her shoulders,” they said. “It is time that we took her business under our own control, by giving her enough work to live upon; we might find a real competitor in David’s successor; it is in our interest to keep an eye upon that workshop.” The Cointets went to speak to David Séchard, moved thereto by this thought. Eve saw them, knew that her stratagem had succeeded at once, and felt a thrill of the keenest joy. They stated their proposal. They had more work than they could undertake, their presses could not keep pace with the work, would M. Séchard print for them? They had sent to Bordeaux for workmen, and could find enough to give full employment to David’s three presses. “Gentlemen,” said Eve, while Cérizet went across to David’s workshop to announce the two printers, “while my husband was with the MM. Didot he came to know of excellent workers, honest and industrious men; he will choose his successor, no doubt, from among the best of them. If he sold his business outright for some twenty thousand francs, it might bring us in a thousand francs per annum; that would be better than losing a thousand yearly over such trade as you leave us. Why did you envy us the poor little almanac speculation, especially as we have always brought it out?” “Oh, why did you not give us notice, madame? We would not have interfered with you,” one of the brothers answered blandly (he was known as the “tall Cointet”). “Oh, come gentlemen! you only began your almanac after Cérizet told you that I was bringing out mine.” She spoke briskly, looking full at “the tall Cointet” as she spoke. He lowered his eyes; Cérizet’s treachery was proven to her.