At the same time that he heard her affectionate voice, the room was flooded with light. Mme. Chambannes came in, muff in hand, her veil drawn up above her eyebrows. Her dainty little nose was pink at the tip, owing to the cold weather outside--or perhaps to the recent caresses. She renewed her apologies and threw on a chair her sable coat and her flowery hat, in which two hatpins vibrated an instant. Then she declared: "Do you know, master.... I have an idea, a new combination.... Let me tell it quickly!... At five o'clock, we are forever being disturbed.... First it is one; then it is another who drops in and, between you and me, we do nothing of any value...." M. Raindal's face was serene once more; he nodded his benevolent approval. "Well, then, here is my idea.... We could fix the hour of the lesson for six.... We'd work from six to seven ... and you'd stay to dinner every Thursday.... Are you willing?" M. Raindal had a rapid vision of Thérèse, with the sarcastic smile, and the contemptuous tightening of her thin lips with which she would receive the news of this new arrangement. A longing came over him to defy her, to have his revenge on her and to reduce her silent irony with an audacious coup. He coughed, seemed to debate with himself, and finally said in a clear voice: "Well, yes, that suits me.... It is agreed, dear Madame!" But a remnant of caution made him add: "Unless, of course, anything unforeseen occurs, unless there is some major impediment." Mme. Chambannes pouted reproachfully. "Oh, dear master, it is very wrong to lay down conditions!... Are you not free, absolutely free?... Do you think that your little pupil would wish to encroach upon your occupations?" "Your little pupil!"... How sweetly she had said that! M. Raindal was moved and apologized for himself; then he apologized equally for the ladies. Zozé did not seem offended by their defection. Had she not gained something that would console her? She was saving one hour for her dressmakers, for social calls and for Gerald, and this without losing the master's friendship. Only within herself, she thought: "Oh! this Mlle. Raindal is getting on my nerves." * * * * * From that day, M. Raindal was the guest of the Chambannes every Thursday. Towards five o'clock he slipped on his evening clothes or a frock-coat, according to his inclination, since Zozé had left him free to dress as he pleased. He then hailed a cab and arrived in the rue de Prony at six. He stopped on his way usually at a florist and bought two or three large roses, some orchids, a very large bunch of violets or early lilac and offered them to Mme. Chambannes, whom he knew to be very fond of rare flowers. She thanked him chidingly, placed the flowers in a vase or, if they were short, kept them in her hand. Then the lesson would begin.