Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a large woman,
decollette, with red arms, red cheeks, and attired in gay colors. As
she was received with effusion, Duroy asked Mme. Forestier: "Who is
that person?"

"Viscountess de Percemur, whose nom de plume is 'Patte Blanche.'"

He was surprised and with difficulty restrained a burst of laughter.

"Patte Blanche? I fancied her a young woman like you. Is that Patte
Blanche? Ah, she is handsome, very handsome!"

A servant appeared at the door and announced: "Madame is served."

Duroy was placed between the manager's plain daughter, Mlle. Rose,
and Mme. de Marelle. The proximity of the latter embarrassed him
somewhat, although she appeared at ease and conversed with her usual
spirit. Gradually, however, his assurance returned, and before the
meal was over, he knew that their relations would be renewed.
Wishing, too, to be polite to his employer's daughter, he addressed
her from time to time. She responded as her mother would have done,
without any hesitation as to what she should say. At M. Walter's
right sat Viscountess de Percemur, and Duroy, looking at her with a
smile, asked Mme. de Marelle in a low voice: "Do you know the one
who signs herself 'Domino Rose'?"

"Yes, perfectly; Baroness de Livar."

"Is she like the Countess?"