And with this remark he pursued her whilst she was returning to the shop, overcome with emotion and unable to find a word of defence. She was sorry now that she had run away. Why hadn't she explained the matter, and brought her brother forward? They would now imagine all sorts of villanies, and, say what she might, they would never believe her. Once more she forgot Robineau, and went back to her counter, while Jouve repaired to the manager's office to report the matter. But the messenger on duty told him that Monsieur Mouret was with Monsieur Bourdoncle and Monsieur Robineau; they had been talking together for the last quarter of an hour. In fact, the door was half-open, and he could hear Mouret gaily asking Robineau if he had spent a pleasant holiday; there was not the least question of a dismissal--on the contrary, the conversation fell on certain things to be done in the silk department. "Do you want anything, Monsieur Jouve?" exclaimed Mouret. "Come in." But a sudden instinct warned the inspector. As Bourdoncle had come out, he preferred to relate everything to him; and they slowly passed through the shawl department, walking side by side, the one leaning over and talking in a low tone, the other listening without a muscle of his severe face betraying his impressions. "All right," he said at last. And as they had arrived at the mantle department, he went in. Just at that moment Madame Aurélie was scolding Denise. Where had she come from again? This time she couldn't say that she had been to the work-room. Really, these continual absences could not be tolerated any longer. "Madame Aurélie!" cried Bourdoncle. He had decided on a bold stroke, not wishing to consult Mouret, for fear of some weakness. The first-hand came up, and the story was once more related in a low voice. All the girls were waiting in the expectation of some catastrophe. At last, Madame Aurélie turned round with a solemn air. "Mademoiselle Baudu!" she called, and her puffy Cæsarian countenance assumed the inexorable sternness of sovereign power: "Go and get paid!" The terrible phrase rang out loudly in the empty department. Denise stood there pale as a ghost, without saying a word. At last she was able to ask in broken sentences: "Me! me! What for? What have I done?" Bourdoncle harshly replied that she knew very well, that she had better not provoke any explanation; and he spoke of the cravats, and added that it would be a fine thing if all the young ladies were to receive men down in the basement. "But it was my brother!" she cried with the grievous anger of an outraged virgin.