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"Monsieur Gavard's revolver will end by playing him a nasty trick." Gavard now showed the most jubilant bearing at Monsieur Lebigre's. Florent, since ceasing to take his meals with the Quenus, had come almost to live in the little "cabinet." He breakfasted, dined, and constantly shut himself up there.
At the mention of Gavard there came a pause. The gossips looked at each other with a circumspect air. And then, as they drew breath, they inhaled the odour of the Camemberts, whose gamy scent had overpowered the less penetrating emanations of the Marolles and the Limbourgs, and spread around with remarkable power.
"I think," said she, addressing herself to Madame Lecoeur, "that you ought to advise your brother-in-law to be careful. Last night they were shouting out the most shocking things in that little room. Men really seem to lose their heads over politics. If anyone had heard them, it might have been a very serious matter for them." "Oh! Gavard will go his own way," sighed Madame Lecoeur.
Vous pouvez, si vous le preferez, les envoyer a M. Gavard, qui me les remettra, ou m'ecrire directement. Je vous prie, cher monsieur, de croire a mes sentiments cordialement devoues. From M. Leon Say Paris, 25 decembre.
They were beginning to feel quite faint when a man hurriedly came out of the passage and ran off to get a cab. Five minutes later Gavard appeared, followed by two police officers. Lisa, who had stepped out on to the footway on observing the cab, hastily hurried back into the shop. Gavard was very pale.
She could see that she was putting them out, and the knowledge of this rendered her yet more sour and angular, as she stood there in her limp skirts, with her long, spider-like arms bent and her knotted fingers clasped beneath her apron. Then, as she coughed slightly, Gavard, whom the silence embarrassed, inquired if she had a cold. She curtly answered in the negative.
"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.
Twice already had she risen to scatter sawdust about the shop. However, she smiled at Marjolin as he entered. "Monsieur Gavard," began the young man, "has sent me to ask "
Gavard had taken up the newspaper again, and, in tones which he strove to render comic, was reading out some passages of the speech from the throne which had been delivered that morning at the opening of the Chambers. Charvet made fine sport of the official phraseology; there was not a single line of it which he did not tear to pieces. One sentence afforded especial amusement to them all.
"It's lovely, that prosperity of his; why, everyone's dying of hunger!" said Charvet. "Trade is shocking," asserted Gavard. "And what in the name of goodness is the meaning of anybody 'leaning on lights'?" continued Clemence, who prided herself upon literary culture. Robine himself even allowed a faint laugh to escape from the depths of his beard. The discussion began to grow warm.
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