They slept the peaceful sleep of a quiet conscience, until they got to
Rouen, and when they returned to the house, refreshed and rested, Madame
Tellier could not help saying:
“It was all very well, but I was longing to get home.”
They hurried over their supper, and then, when they had put on their
usual evening costume, waited for their regular customers, and the
little colored lamp outside the door told the passers-by that Madame
Tellier had returned, and in a moment the news spread, nobody knew how
or through whom.
Monsieur Philippe, the banker's son, even carried his friendliness so
far as to send a special messenger to Monsieur Tournevau, who was in the
bosom of his family.
The fish curer had several cousins to dinner every Sunday, and they were
having coffee, when a man came in with a letter in his hand. Monsieur
Tournevau was much excited; he opened the envelope and grew pale; it
contained only these words in pencil:
“The cargo of cod has been found; the ship has come into port; good
business for you. Come immediately.”
He felt in his pockets, gave the messenger two sons, and suddenly
blushing to his ears, he said: “I must go out.” He handed his wife the
laconic and mysterious note, rang the bell, and when the servant came
in, he asked her to bring him has hat and overcoat immediately. As soon
as he was in the street, he began to hurry, and the way seemed to him to
be twice as long as usual, in consequence of his impatience.
Madame Tellier's establishment had put on quite a holiday look. On the
ground floor, a number of sailors were making a deafening noise, and
Louise and Flora drank with one and the other, and were being called for
in every direction at once.
The upstairs room was full by nine o'clock. Monsieur Vasse, the Judge of
the Tribunal of Commerce, Madame Tellier's regular but Platonic wooer,
was talking to her in a corner in a low voice, and they were both
smiling, as if they were about to come to an understanding.
Monsieur Poulin, the ex-mayor, was talking to Rosa, and she was running
her hands through the old gentleman's white whiskers.
Tall Fernande was on the sofa, her feet on the coat of Monsieur
Pinipesse, the tax collector, and leaning back against young Monsieur
Philippe, her right arm around his neck, while she held a cigarette in
her left hand.
Raphaele appeared to be talking seriously with Monsieur Dupuis, the
insurance agent, and she finished by saying: “Yes, I will, yes.”
Just then, the door opened suddenly, and Monsieur Tournevau came in,
and was greeted with enthusiastic cries of “Long live Tournevau!” And
Raphaele, who was dancing alone up and down the room, went and threw
herself into his arms. He seized her in a vigorous embrace and, without
saying a word, lifted her up as if she had been a feather.
Rosa was chatting to the ex-mayor, kissing him and puffing; both his
whiskers at the same time, in order to keep his head straight.
Fernanae and Madame Tellier remained with the four men, and Monsieur
Philippe exclaimed: “I will pay for some champagne; get three bottles,
Madame Tellier.” And Fernande gave him a hug, and whispered to him:
“Play us a waltz, will you?” So he rose and sat down at the old piano in
the corner, and managed to get a hoarse waltz out of the depths of the
instrument.
The tall girl put her arms round the tax collector, Madame Tellier let
Monsieur Vasse take her round the waist, and the two couples turned
round, kissing as they danced. Monsieur Vasse, who had formerly danced
in good society, waltzed with such elegance that Madame Tellier was
quite captivated.
Frederic brought the champagne; the first cork popped, and Monsieur
Philippe played the introduction to a quadrille, through which the
four dancers walked in society fashion, decorously, with propriety,
deportment, bows and curtsies, and then they began to drink.
Monsieur Philippe next struck up a lively polka, and Monsieur Tournevau
started off with the handsome Jewess, whom he held without letting her
feet touch the ground. Monsieur Pinipesse and Monsieur Vasse had started
off with renewed vigor, and from time to time one or other couple would
stop to toss off a long draught of sparkling wine, and that dance was
threatening to become never-ending, when Rosa opened the door.
“I want to dance,” she exclaimed. And she caught hold of Monsieur
Dupuis, who was sitting idle on the couch, and the dance began again.
But the bottles were empty. “I will pay for one,” Monsieur Tournevau
said. “So will I,” Monsieur Vasse declared. “And I will do the same,”
Monsieur Dupuis remarked.
They all began to clap their hands, and it soon became a regular ball,
and from time to time Louise and Flora ran upstairs quickly and had a
few turns, while their customers downstairs grew impatient, and then
they returned regretfully to the tap-room. At midnight they were still
dancing.
Madame Tellier let them amuse themselves while she had long private
talks in corners with Monsieur Vasse, as if to settle the last details
of something that had already been settled.
At last, at one o'clock, the two married men, Monsieur Tournevau and
Monsieur Pinipesse, declared that they were going home, and wanted to
pay. Nothing was charged for except the champagne, and that cost only
six francs a bottle, instead of ten, which was the usual price, and when
they expressed their surprise at such generosity, Madame Tellier, who
was beaming, said to them:
“We don't have a holiday every day.”