Sans-Cravate had ample time to examine her; there was no doubt that it was she. He even recognized the silk handkerchief she took from her pocket, for it was a present he had given her. He could not take his eyes from his mistress; his face flushed, and his whole frame shook convulsively. "It's her," he muttered; "in the same house with him. There's no mystery now--they were together, that's clear as day, the traitors! and, of course, to-day ain't the first time they've met there!" He started to run after Bastringuette, who had not seen him; and Jean Ficelle, who hoped there would be a scene, rubbed his hands and smiled to himself. But his hope was soon crushed; Sans-Cravate stopped, making a mighty effort to restrain his passion, and retraced his steps. "No," he said, "I won't go after her; for I might forget myself. When I'm angry, I don't know what I'm doing, and I might do some harm. No; let's go in the other direction!" "Pardieu! suppose you did give her a beating--a jade that deceived you--I don't see where there'd be any great harm done! Why shouldn't you take that little satisfaction?" But Sans-Cravate was not listening; he had walked away, and was already at some distance. Jean Ficelle finally decided to follow him, saying to himself: "Never mind; he's out for good with his wench, and I'm quite sure the young fellow will get what he deserves, when there's a good chance. Then Sans-Cravate will consent to come and play a little game with his friends, and I'll fleece him at _table-basse_ or _biribi_." XV THE DRESSMAKERS Imagine eight young women assembled in a large room, called an _atelier_[H] probably because it contains no furniture except a very broad and long table and some chairs. On the table, which might be considered a counter as well, were scattered different fabrics--silk, linen, cotton, and muslin; there was a great number of small pieces, cut in different shapes; there were dresses just begun, others almost finished, others still in the piece; and there were ribbons, fringes, lace, and a multitude of the odds and ends used by dressmakers, who have the art of imparting grace and value to all such things; we men do very wrong to laugh at them, for they take so much pains with their work solely to please us; and if women were not coquettish, we should be the ones most taken in. The eight girls were seated around the _travail_--that is the name now given to the large cutting table; it used to be called _établi_, but that word is now used only by working people; and you must remember that a dressmaker is not a workgirl, but an artist in dresses.