But a few light knocks at the door and an urgent voice drew him from
his dream.

"Why, what is the matter, monsieur? It is a quarter-past twelve; don't
you intend to come to breakfast?"

For downstairs breakfast had been waiting for some time past in the
large, cool dining-room. The blinds were closed, with the exception of
one which had just been half opened. It was a cheerful room, with
pearl gray panels relieved by blue mouldings. The table, the
sideboard, and the chairs must have formed part of the set of Empire
furniture in the bedrooms; and the old mahogany, of a deep red, stood
out in strong relief against the light background. A hanging lamp of
polished brass, always shining, gleamed like a sun; while on the four
walls bloomed four large bouquets in pastel, of gillyflowers,
carnations, hyacinths, and roses.

Joyous, radiant, Dr. Pascal entered.

"Ah, the deuce! I had forgotten! I wanted to finish. Look at this,
quite fresh, and perfectly pure this time; something to work miracles
with!"

And he showed the vial, which he had brought down in his enthusiasm.
But his eye fell on Clotilde standing erect and silent, with a serious
air. The secret vexation caused by waiting had brought back all her
hostility, and she, who had burned to throw herself on his neck in the
morning, remained motionless as if chilled and repelled by him.