handed his wife the
laconic and mysterious note, rang the bell, and when the servant came
in, he asked her to bring him his hat and overcoat immediately. As soon
as he was in the street, he began to run, 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, so as to merit their name
of the two Pumps more than ever. They were being called for everywhere
at once; already they were not quite adequate to their business, and the
night bid fair to be a very jolly one for them.

The upstairs room was full by nine o'clock. Monsieur Vasse, the Judge of
the Tribunal of Commerce, _Madame's_ usual, 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 holding Rosa on his knees; and she,
with her nose close to his, was running her hands through the old
gentleman's white whiskers.

Tall Fernande, who was lying on the sofa, had both her feet on Monsieur
Pinipesse, the tax-collector's stomach, and her back on young Monsieur
Philippe's waistcoat; her right arm was round his neck, while she held a
cigarette in her left.

Raphaele appeared to be discussing matters with Monsieur Dupuis, the
insurance agent, and she finished by saying: "Yes, my dear, I will."

Just then, the door opened suddenly, and Monsieur Tournevau came in, who
was greeted with enthusiastic cries of: "Long live Tournevau!" And
Raphaele, who was still twirling round, went and threw herself into his
arms. He seized her in a vigorous embrace, and without saying a word,
lifting her up as if she had been a feather, he went through the room,
opened the door at the other end and disappeared.

Rosa was chatting to the ex-mayor, kissing him every moment, and
pulling both his whiskers at the same time in order to keep his head
straight.

Fernande and _Madame_ 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 entrails of the
instrument.

The tall girl put her arms roun