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 round the tax-collector, Madame asked Monsieur Vasse to take her in his arms, 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 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 up in the air, 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 glass 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 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, had a few turns, while their customers downstairs grew impatient, and then they returned regretfully to the cafe.  At midnight they were still dancing.