There was a fresh silence. “And it makes you anxious, doesn’t it, Monsieur Georges?” “Yes,” he rejoined in the same painful, suffering tone. Zoé was in no hurry. She folded up some lace and said slowly: “You’re wrong; Madame will manage it all.” And then the conversation ended; they said not another word. Still she did not leave the room. A long quarter of an hour passed, and she turned round again without seeming to notice the look of exasperation overspreading the lad’s face, which was already white with the effects of uncertainty and constraint. He was casting sidelong glances in the direction of the drawing room. Maybe Nana was still crying. The other must have grown savage and have dealt her blows. Thus when Zoé finally took her departure he ran to the door and once more pressed his ear against it. He was thunderstruck; his head swam, for he heard a brisk outburst of gaiety, tender, whispering voices and the smothered giggles of a woman who is being tickled. Besides, almost directly afterward, Nana conducted Philippe to the head of the stairs, and there was an exchange of cordial and familiar phrases. When Georges again ventured into the drawing room the young woman was standing before the mirror, looking at herself. “Well?” he asked in utter bewilderment. “Well, what?” she said without turning round. Then negligently: “What did you mean? He’s very nice, is your brother!” “So it’s all right, is it?” “Oh, certainly it’s all right! Goodness me, what’s come over you? One would have thought we were going to fight!” Georges still failed to understand. “I thought I heard—that is, you didn’t cry?” he stammered out. “Me cry!” she exclaimed, looking fixedly at him. “Why, you’re dreaming! What makes you think I cried?” Thereupon the lad was treated to a distressing scene for having disobeyed and played Paul Pry behind the door. She sulked, and he returned with coaxing submissiveness to the old subject, for he wished to know all about it. “And my brother then?” “Your brother saw where he was at once. You know, I might have been a tottie, in which case his interference would have been accounted for by your age and the family honor! Oh yes, I understand those kinds of feelings! But a single glance was enough for him, and he behaved like a well-bred man at once. So don’t be anxious any longer. It’s all over—he’s gone to quiet your mamma!” And she went on laughingly: “For that matter, you’ll see your brother here. I’ve invited him, and he’s going to return.”