The charwoman was already laying an extra knife and fork.

'Suppose she lays a place for Dubuche, while she is about it,' said
Claude. 'He told me he would perhaps come.'

But they were all down upon Dubuche, who frequented women in society.
Jory said that he had seen him in a carriage with an old lady and her
daughter, whose parasols he was holding on his knees.

'Where have you come from to be so late?' asked Fagerolles of
Gagniere.

The latter, who was about to swallow his first spoonful of soup, set
it in his plate again.

'I was in the Rue de Lancry--you know, where they have chamber music.
Oh! my boy, some of Schumann's machines! You haven't an idea of them!
They clutch hold of you at the back of your head just as if somebody
were breathing down your back. Yes, yes, it's something much more
immaterial than a kiss, just a whiff of breath. 'Pon my honour, a
fellow feels as if he were going to die.'

His eyes were moistening and he turned pale, as if experiencing some
over-acute enjoyment.

'Eat your soup,' said Mahoudeau; 'you'll tell us all about it
afterwards.'

The skate was served, and they had the vinegar bottle put on the table