passion. At the first moment she felt a strong inclination to rush
over to the Quenu-Gradelles' and smash everything in their shop. But
eventually she contented herself with giving Muche a whipping.

"If ever I catch you going there again," she cried, boiling over with
anger, "you'll get it hot from me, I can tell you!"

Florent, however, was the real victim of the two women. It was he, in
truth, who had set them by the ears, and it was on his account that
they were fighting each other. Ever since he had appeared upon the scene
things had been going from bad to worse. He compromised and disturbed
and embittered all these people, who had previously lived in such sleek
peace and harmony. The beautiful Norman felt inclined to claw him when
he lingered too long with the Quenus, and it was chiefly from an impulse
of hostile rivalry that she desired to win him to herself. The beautiful
Lisa, on her side, maintained a cold judicial bearing, and although
extremely annoyed, forced herself to silence whenever she saw Florent
leaving the pork shop to go to the Rue Pirouette.

Still, there was now much less cordiality than formerly round the
Quenus' dinner-table in the evening. The clean, prim dining-room seemed
to have assumed an aspect of chilling severity. Florent divined a
reproach, a sort of condemnation in the bright oak, the polished lamp,
and the new matting. He scarcely dared to eat for fear of letting crumbs
fall on the floor or soiling his plate. There was a guileless simplicity
about him which prevented him from seeing how the land really lay.
He still praised Lisa's affectionate kindliness on all sides; and
outwardly, indeed, she did continue to treat him with all gentleness.

"It is very strange," she said to him one day with a smile, as though