"That is your brother's wife, your sister-in-law, Lisa," Gavard said to
Florent.

He had saluted her with a slight inclination of the head. Then he darted
along the house passage, continuing to take the most minute precautions,
and unwilling to let Florent enter the premises through the shop, though
there was no one there. It was evident that he felt great pleasure in
dabbling in what he considered to be a compromising business.

"Wait here," he said, "while I go to see whether your brother is alone.
You can come in when I clap my hands."

Thereupon he opened a door at the end of the passage. But as soon as
Florent heard his brother's voice behind it, he sprang inside at a
bound. Quenu, who was much attached to him, threw his arms round his
neck, and they kissed each other like children.

"Ah! dash it all! Is it really you, my dear fellow?" stammered the pork
butcher. "I never expected to see you again. I felt sure you were dead!
Why, only yesterday I was saying to Lisa, 'That poor fellow, Florent!'"

However, he stopped short, and popping his head into the shop, called
out, "Lisa! Lisa!" Then turning towards a little girl who had crept into
a corner, he added, "Pauline, go and find your mother."

The little one did not stir, however. She was an extremely fine
child, five years of age, with a plump chubby face, bearing a strong
resemblance to that of the pork butcher's wife. In her arms she was
holding a huge yellow cat, which had cheerfully surrendered itself to