She looked so pretty in her delight, with her confused air of supplication, that he resolved to laugh. And besides, this little scratch dinner was so charming in this room where they were all alone, and much more comfortable than at a restaurant. She, who usually drank water, threw off restraint, and swallowed her glass of white wine without knowing what she was about. The box of sardines being empty, they attacked the pâté with the beautiful new knife. It cut so admirably that it was a perfect triumph. "And you--what about your affair?" she inquired. "You make me chatter, and you don't tell me how your matter with the sub-prefect ended." Thereupon he related in detail how he had been treated by the traffic-manager. Oh! he had received a thorough good wigging! He had defended himself, he had told the truth. He had related how this little whipper-snapper of a sub-prefect had insisted on getting into a first-class carriage with his dog, when there was a second-class carriage reserved for sportsmen and their animals, and had given an account of the quarrel that had resulted, and the words that had been exchanged. In short, the manager had said he was right to have insisted on the regulations being complied with; but the bad part of the business was that sentence which he confessed having uttered: "You others will not always be the masters!" He was suspected of being a republican. The discussions that had just marked the opening of the session of 1869, and the secret alarm about the forthcoming elections, had made the government distrustful. And had not President Grandmorin spoken warmly in his favour, he would certainly have been removed from his post. As it was, he had been compelled to sign the letter of apology which the latter had advised should be sent, and had drawn up himself. "Ah! you see!" broke in Séverine. "Wasn't I right to drop him a line, and pay him a visit along with you, this morning, before you went to receive your wigging? I knew he would get us out of the trouble." "Yes, he is very fond of you," resumed Roubaud, "and is all powerful in the company. What is the use of being a good servant? Ah! the manager did not stint me of praise: slow to take the initiative, but of good conduct, obedient, courageous, briefly, all sorts of qualities! Well, my dear, if you had not been my wife, and if Grandmorin had not pleaded my cause out of friendship for you, it would have been all up with me. I should have been sent to do penance at some small station." She was staring fixedly into space, and murmured, as if speaking to herself: "Oh! certainly, he is a man with great influence."