"I play hearts."

When Zoe returned she found them once again absorbed. After a silence,
as Mme Lerat was shuffling, Mme Maloir asked who it was.

"Oh, nobody to speak of," replied the servant carelessly; "a slip of a
lad! I wanted to send him away again, but he's such a pretty boy with
never a hair on his chin and blue eyes and a girl's face! So I told him
to wait after all. He's got an enormous bouquet in his hand, which he
never once consented to put down. One would like to catch him one--a
brat like that who ought to be at school still!"

Mme Lerat went to fetch a water bottle to mix herself some brandy and
water, the lumps of sugar having rendered her thirsty. Zoe muttered
something to the effect that she really didn't mind if she drank
something too. Her mouth, she averred, was as bitter as gall.

"So you put him--?" continued Mme Maloir.

"Oh yes, I put him in the closet at the end of the room, the little
unfurnished one. There's only one of my lady's trunks there and a table.
It's there I stow the lubbers."

And she was putting plenty of sugar in her grog when the electric bell
made her jump. Oh, drat it all! Wouldn't they let her have a drink
in peace? If they were to have a peal of bells things promised well.
Nevertheless, she ran off to open the door. Returning presently, she saw
Mme Maloir questioning her with a glance.

"It's nothing," she said, "only a bouquet."