his shoulder, prying into the pans.
If he wanted a spoon or a dish, she would hand it to him. The heat of
the fire would bring their blood to their skins; still, nothing in
the world would have induced the young man to cease stirring the fatty
_bouillis_ which were thickening over the fire while the girl stood
gravely by him, discussing the amount of boiling that was necessary.
In the afternoon, when the shop lacked customers, they quietly chatted
together for hours at a time. Lisa sat behind the counter, leaning back,
and knitting in an easy, regular fashion; while Quenu installed himself
on a big oak block, dangling his legs and tapping his heels against the
wood. They got on wonderfully well together, discussing all sorts of
subjects, generally cookery, and then Uncle Gradelle and the neighbours.
Lisa also amused the young man with stories, just as though he were a
child. She knew some very pretty ones--some miraculous legends, full of
lambs and little angels, which she narrated in a piping voice, with all
her wonted seriousness. If a customer happened to come in, she saved
herself the trouble of moving by asking Quenu to get the required pot of
lard or box of snails. And at eleven o'clock they went slowly up to
bed as on the previous night. As they closed their doors, they calmly
repeated the words:

"Good night, Mademoiselle Lisa."

"Good night, Monsieur Quenu."

One morning Uncle Gradelle was struck dead by apoplexy while preparing
a galantine. He fell forward, with his face against the chopping-block.
Lisa did not lose her self-possession. She remarked that the dead man
could not be left lying in the middle of the kitchen, and had the body
removed into a little back room where Gradelle had slept. Then she
arranged with the assistants what should be said. It must be given out
that the master had died in his bed; otherwise the whole district would
be disgusted, and the shop would lose its customers. Quenu helped to
carry the dead man away, feeling quite confused, and astonished at
being unable to shed any tears. Presently, however, he and Lisa cried
together. Quenu and his brother Florent were the sole heirs. The gossips
of the neighbourhood credited old Gradelle with the possession of a
considerable fortune. However, not a single crown could be discovered.
Lisa seemed very restless and uneasy. Quenu noticed how pensive she
became, how she kept on looking around her from morning till night, as
though she had lo