“Oh yes, I put him in the closet at the end of the room, the little unfurnished one. There’s only one of my lady’s trunks there and a table. It’s there I stow the lubbers.” And she was putting plenty of sugar in her grog when the electric bell made her jump. Oh, drat it all! Wouldn’t they let her have a drink in peace? If they were to have a peal of bells things promised well. Nevertheless, she ran off to open the door. Returning presently, she saw Mme Maloir questioning her with a glance. “It’s nothing,” she said, “only a bouquet.” All three refreshed themselves, nodding to each other in token of salutation. Then while Zoé was at length busy clearing the table, bringing the plates out one by one and putting them in the sink, two other rings followed close upon one another. But they weren’t serious, for while keeping the kitchen informed of what was going on she twice repeated her disdainful expression: “Nothing, only a bouquet.” Notwithstanding which, the old ladies laughed between two of their tricks when they heard her describe the looks of the creditors in the anteroom after the flowers had arrived. Madame would find her bouquets on her toilet table. What a pity it was they cost such a lot and that you could only get ten sous for them! Oh dear, yes, plenty of money was wasted! “For my part,” said Mme Maloir, “I should be quite content if every day of my life I got what the men in Paris had spent on flowers for the women.” “Now, you know, you’re not hard to please,” murmured Mme Lerat. “Why, one would have only just enough to buy thread with. Four queens, my dear.” It was ten minutes to four. Zoé was astonished, could not understand why her mistress was out so long. Ordinarily when Madame found herself obliged to go out in the afternoons she got it over in double-quick time. But Mme Maloir declared that one didn’t always manage things as one wished. Truly, life was beset with obstacles, averred Mme Lerat. The best course was to wait. If her niece was long in coming it was because her occupations detained her; wasn’t it so? Besides, they weren’t overworked—it was comfortable in the kitchen. And as hearts were out, Mme Lerat threw down diamonds. The bell began again, and when Zoé reappeared she was burning with excitement. “My children, it’s fat Steiner!” she said in the doorway, lowering her voice as she spoke. “I’ve put HIM in the little sitting room.” Thereupon Mme Maloir spoke about the banker to Mme Lerat, who knew no such gentleman. Was he getting ready to give Rose Mignon the go-by? Zoé shook her head; she knew a thing or two. But once more she had to go and open the door. “Here’s bothers!” she murmured when she came back. “It’s the nigger! ’Twasn’t any good telling him that my lady’s gone out, and so he’s settled himself in the bedroom. We only expected him this evening.”