ng stand in front of her. On the
work-table lay a mass of wire, reels, cotton wool, green and brown
paper, leaves and petals cut out of silk, satin or velvet. In the
centre, in the neck of a large decanter, one flower-girl had thrust a
little penny nosegay which had been fading on her breast since the day
before.

"Oh, I have some news," said a pretty brunette named Leonie as she
leaned over her cushion to crimp some rose petals. "Poor Caroline is
very unhappy about that fellow who used to wait for her every evening."

"Ah!" said Nana, who was cutting thin strips of green paper. "A man who
cheats on her every day!"

Madame Lerat had to display severity over the muffled laughter. Then
Leonie whispered suddenly:

"Quiet. The boss!"

It was indeed Madame Titreville who entered. The tall thin woman usually
stayed down in the shop. The girls were quite in awe of her because
she never joked with them. All the heads were now bent over the work in
diligent silence. Madame Titreville slowly circled the work-table. She
told one girl her work was sloppy and made her do the flower over. Then
she stalked out as stiffly as she had come in.

The complaining and low laughter began again.

"Really, young ladies!" said Madame Lerat, trying to look more severe
than ever. "You will force me to take measures."

The workgirls paid no attention to her. They were not afraid of her. She
was too easy-going because she enjoyed being surrounded by these young
girls whose zest for life sparkled in their eyes. She enjoyed taking
them aside to hear their confidences about their lovers. She even told
their fortunes with cards whenever a corner of the work-table was free.
She was only offended by coarse expressions. As long as you avoided
those you could say what you pleased.

To tell the truth, Nana perfected her education in nice style in the
workroom! No doubt she was already inclined to go wrong. But this was
the finishing stroke--associating with a lot of girls who were already
worn out with misery and vice. They all hobnobbed and rotted together,
just the story of the baskets of apples when there are rotten ones among
them. They maintained a certain propriety in public, but the smut flowed
freely when they got to whispering together in a corner.

For inexperienced girls like Nana, there was an undesirable atmosphere
around the workshop, an air of cheap dance halls and unorthodox evenings
brought in by some of the girls. The laziness o