She but seldom spoke.  This tall, serious looking girl, alone among so many men, listened to all the political chatter with a learnedly critical air.  She leaned back against the partition, and every now and then sipped her grog whilst gazing at the speakers with frowning brows or inflated nostrils, thus silently signifying her approval or disapproval, and making it quite clear that she held decided opinions upon the most complicated matters.  At times she would roll a cigarette, and puff slender whiffs of smoke from the corners of her mouth, whilst lending increased attention to what was being debated.  It was as though she were presiding over the discussion, and would award the prize to the victor when it was finished.  She certainly considered that it became her, as a woman, to display some reserve in her opinions, and to remain calm whilst the men grew more and more excited.  Now and then, however, in the heat of the debate, she would let a word or a phrase escape her and “clench the matter” even for Charvet himself, as Gavard said.  In her heart she believed herself the superior of all these fellows.  The only one of them for whom she felt any respect was Robine, and she would thoughtfully contemplate his silent bearing.

Neither Florent nor any of the others paid any special attention to Clemence.  They treated her just as though she were a man, shaking hands with her so roughly as almost to dislocate her arms.  One evening Florent witnessed the periodical settlement of accounts between her and Charvet.  She had just received her pay, and Charvet wanted to borrow ten francs from her; but she first of all insisted that they must reckon up how matters stood between them.  They lived together in a voluntary partnership, each having complete control of his or her earnings, and strictly paying his or her expenses.  By so doing, said they, they were under no obligations to one another, but retained entire freedom.  Rent, food, washing, and amusements, were all noted down and added up.  That evening, when the accounts had been verified, Clemence proved to Charvet that he already owed her five francs.  Then she handed him the other ten which he wished to borrow, and exclaimed:  “Recollect that you now owe me fifteen.  I shall expect you to repay me on the fifth, when you get paid for teaching little Lehudier.”

When Rose was summoned to receive payment for the “drinks,” each produced the few coppers required to discharge his or her liability.  Charvet laughingly called Clemence an aristocrat because she drank grog.  She wanted to humiliate him, said he, and make him feel that he earned less than she did, which, as it happened, was the fact.  Beneath his laugh, however, there was a feeling of bitterness that the girl should be better circumstanced than himself, for, in spite of his theory of the equality of the sexes, this lowered him.

Although the discussions in the little room had virtually no result, they served to exercise the speakers’ lungs.  A tremendous hubbub proceeded from the sanctum, and the panes of frosted glass vibrated like drum-skins.  Sometimes the uproar became so great that Rose, while languidly serving some blouse-wearing customer in the shop, would turn her head uneasily.