During this conversation, Monin had remained behind La Thomassinière. Obtaining no reply, he decided to return to his wife; but Bichette, who saw everything that took place in every corner of the salon, had noticed that La Thomassinière did not acknowledge her husband's salutation, and she glared fiercely at the parvenu, as she said to Monin: "Why did you go to speak to that uncivil fellow?" "Bichette, I----" "Why do you need to inquire for everybody's health?" "Because, Bichette----" "Are you a friend of those people?" "You know perfectly well that we met them at Monsieur Destival's. Will you have a pinch, Bichette?" "Didn't you notice that the insolent wretch, the pitiful creature, who makes such a ridiculous splurge, turned his back on you without acknowledging your greeting?" "Perhaps he didn't see me, Bichette." "Not see you! You were right under his nose! You're a chicken-hearted creature, Monsieur Monin! Those Thomassinières shall pay me for this. Meanwhile, let me see you speaking to that man or his wife, and I'll take away your snuff-box for a week." Monin, terrified by that threat, retreated behind the chair and took three pinches in rapid succession. But Domingo announced again that dinner was served, and they all repaired to the dining-room. Dalville offered his hand to the hostess, a provincial dandy escorted the gorgeous Athalie, the spectacled gentleman went to the three sisters, saying that he would take charge of the Graces, La Thomassinière went out alone, considering doubtless that his own presence was honor enough, Monin walked at a snail's pace with an old dowager, and Madame Monin alone was left in the salon with Monsieur Bisbis--the little man who shifted from one leg to the other;--he skipped forward to the stout lady in the turban, offered her his right hand, then the left, then the right again, until Madame Monin, out of patience, seized her escort about the waist, as if she were going to dance a waltz, and pulled him into the dining-room. Dalville occupied one of the places of honor beside the hostess, and on his other side was the young lady who talked so easily. Athalie was between the provincial beau and the gentleman with spectacles; her husband was between an old lady and one of the three sisters. Madame Monin had her escort for her neighbor, and Monsieur Monin found himself seated beside the silly school-girl, who dared not raise her eyes, and to whom he had twice offered snuff when the soup was served.