He followed her into the next room. Clara was not duped by this manœuvre, but Marguerite threw her the garments at a quicker rate, in order to take up her attention and close her mouth. Wasn't the second-hand a good comrade? Her affairs did not concern them. The whole department was now aiding and abetting the intrigue, the young ladies grew more agitated than ever, Lhomme and Joseph affected not to see or hear anything. And inspector Jouve, who, in passing by, had remarked Madame Aurélie's tactics, began walking up and down before the pattern-room door, with the regular step of a sentry guarding the will and pleasure of a superior. "Give Monsieur Mouret the lists," said the first-hand. Denise handed them over, and sat there with her eyes raised. She had started slightly, but had promptly conquered herself, and retained a fine calm look, although her cheeks were pale. For a moment, Mouret appeared to be absorbed in the lists of articles, never giving the girl a glance. A silence reigned, then Madame Aurélie all at once stepped up to Mademoiselle de Fontenailles, who had not even turned her head, and, apparently dissatisfied with her counting, said to her in an undertone: "Go and help with the parcels. You are not used to figures." Mademoiselle de Fontenailles got up, and returned to the department, where she was greeted with whispering. Joseph, under the laughing eyes of these young minxes, was writing anyhow. Clara though delighted to have an assistant nevertheless treated her very roughly, hating her as she hated all the women in the shop. What an idiotic thing to yield to the love of a workman, when you were a marchioness! And yet she envied the poor creature this love. "Very good!" repeated Mouret, still pretending to read. However, Madame Aurélie hardly knew how to get away in her turn in a decent fashion. She turned about, went to look at the machine knives, furious with her husband for not inventing a pretext for calling her. But then he was never of any use in serious matters, he would have died of thirst close to a pond. It was Marguerite who proved intelligent enough to go and ask the first-hand a question. "I'm coming," replied the latter. And her dignity now being saved, having a pretext to join the young ladies who were watching her, she at last left Denise and Mouret alone together, coming out of the pattern-room with a majestic step and so noble an air, that the saleswomen did not even dare to smile. Mouret had slowly laid the lists on the table, and stood looking at Denise, who had remained seated, pen in hand. She did not avert her gaze, but she had merely turned paler. "You will come this evening?" asked he. "No, sir, I cannot. My brothers are to be at my uncle's to-night, and I have promised to dine with them." "But your foot! You walk with such difficulty." "Oh, I can get so far very well. I feel much better since the morning."