The Baudus, however, notwithstanding their wish not to change anything in the way of The Old Elbeuf, tried to sustain the competition. The customers no longer coming to them, they forced themselves to go to the customers, through the agency of travellers. There was at that time, in the Paris market, a traveller connected with all the great tailors, who saved the little cloth and flannel houses when he condescended to represent them. Naturally they all tried to get hold of him; he assumed the importance of a personage; and Baudu, having haggled with him, had the misfortune of seeing him come to terms with the Matignons, in the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs. One after the other, two other travellers robbed him; a third, an honest man, did no business. It was a slow death, without any shock, a continual decrease of business, customers lost one by one. A day came when the bills fell very heavily. Up to that time they had lived on their former savings; but now they began to contract debts. In December, Baudu, terrified by the amount of the bills he had accepted, resigned himself to a most cruel sacrifice: he sold his country-house at Rambouillet, a house which cost him a lot of money in continual repairs, and for which the tenants had not even paid the rent when he decided to get rid of it. This sale killed the only dream of his life, his heart bled as for the loss of some dear one. And he had to sell for seventy thousand francs that which had cost him more than two hundred thousand, considering himself fortunate to have met the Lhommes, his neighbours, who were desirous of adding to their property. The seventy thousand francs would keep the business going a little longer; for notwithstanding the repulses already encountered, the idea of struggling sprang up again; perhaps with great care they might conquer even now. The Sunday on which the Lhommes paid the money, they were good enough to dine at The Old Elbeuf. Madame Aurélie was the first to arrive; they had to wait for the cashier, who came late, scared by a whole afternoon's music; as for young Albert, he had accepted the invitation, but did not put in an appearance. It was, moreover, a somewhat painful evening. The Baudus, living without air in their narrow dining-room, suffered from the gust of wind brought in by the Lhommes, with their scattered family and taste for a free existence. Geneviève, wounded by Madame Aurélie's imperial airs, did not open her mouth; whilst Colomban was admiring her with a shiver, on reflecting that she reigned over Clara. Before retiring to rest, in the evening, Madame Baudu being already in bed, Baudu walked about the room for a long time. It was a mild night, thawing and damp. Outside, notwithstanding the closed windows, and drawn curtains, one could hear the machinery roaring on the opposite side of the way.