Finding in the cat an outlet for her embarrassment, Espérance made another effort to give the interview a friendly turn.
"He is beautiful, madame, your matou," she said.
"It is a female," replied Madame Caille, turning abruptly from the basket, "and she does not care for strangers."
This second snub was not calculated to encourage neighbourly overtures, but Madame Sergeot had felt herself to be in the wrong, and was not to be so readily repulsed.
"We do not see Monsieur Caille at the Salon Malakoff," she continued. "We should be enchanted"—
"My husband shaves himself," retorted Alexandrine, with renewed dignity.
"But his hair"—ventured Espérance.
"I cut it!" thundered her foe.
Here Madame Sergeot made a false move. She laughed. Then, in confusion, and striving, too late, to retrieve herself—"Pardon, madame," she added, "but it seems droll to me, that. After all, ten sous is a sum so small"—
"All the world, unfortunately," broke in Madame Caille, "has not the wherewithal to buy mirrors, and pay itself frescoes and appareils antiseptiques! The eggs are twenty-four sous—but we do not pride ourselves upon our eggs. Perhaps you had better seek them elsewhere for the future!"
For sole reply Madame Sergeot had recourse to her expressive shrug, and then laying two francs upon the counter, and gathering up the sous which Alexandrine
