“But what had you been saying to her?” asked the old maid, quite frisky with excitement, and delighted to hear that the two women had quarrelled.

“I!  I’d said just nothing at all—­no, not that!  I just went into the shop and told her very civilly that I’d buy some black-pudding to-morrow evening, and then she overwhelmed me with abuse.  A dirty hypocrite she is, with her saint-like airs!  But she’ll pay more dearly for this than she fancies!”

The three women felt that La Normande was not telling them the truth, but this did not prevent them from taking her part with a rush of bad language.  They turned towards the Rue Rambuteau with insulting mien, inventing all sorts of stories about the uncleanliness of the cookery at the Quenu’s shop, and making the most extraordinary accusations.  If the Quenus had been detected selling human flesh the women could not have displayed more violent and threatening anger.  The fish-girl was obliged to tell her story three times over.

“And what did the cousin say?” asked Mademoiselle Saget, with wicked intent.

“The cousin!” repeated La Normande, in a shrill voice.  “Do you really believe that he’s a cousin?  He’s some lover or other, I’ll wager, the great booby!”

The three others protested against this.  Lisa’s honourability was an article of faith in the neighbourhood.

“Stuff and nonsense!” retorted La Normande.  “You can never be sure about those smug, sleek hypocrites.”

Mademoiselle Saget nodded her head as if to say that she was not very far from sharing La Normande’s opinion.  And she softly added:  “Especially as this cousin has sprung from no one knows where; for it’s a very doubtful sort of account that the Quenus give of him.”

“Oh, he’s the fat woman’s sweetheart, I tell you!” reaffirmed the fish-girl; “some scamp or vagabond picked up in the streets.  It’s easy enough to see it.”

“She has given him a complete outfit,” remarked Madame Lecoeur.  “He must be costing her a pretty penny.”

“Yes, yes,” muttered the old maid; “perhaps you are right.  I must really get to know something about him.”

Then they all promised to keep one another thoroughly informed of whatever might take place in the Quenu-Gradelle establishment.  The butter dealer pretended that she wished to open her brother-in-law’s eyes as to the sort of places he frequented.  However, La Normande’s anger had by this time toned down, and, a good sort of girl at heart, she went off, weary of having talked so much on the matter.

“I’m sure that La Normande said something or other insolent,” remarked Madame Lecoeur knowingly, when the fish-girl had left them.  “It is just her way; and it scarcely becomes a creature like her to talk as she did of Lisa.”

The three women looked at each other and smiled.  Then, when Madame Lecoeur also had gone off, La Sarriette remarked to Mademoiselle Saget:  “It is foolish of my aunt to worry herself so much about all these affairs.  It’s that which makes her so thin.  Ah! she’d have willingly taken Gavard for a husband if she could only have got him.  Yet she used to beat me if ever a young man looked my way.”