accounts, she had had no time to
bestow upon her neighbours, and, even had her attention been free, she
could hardly have been expected to deduce the rancour of Madame Caille
from the evidence at hand. But even if she had been able to ignore the
significance of that furious outburst at her very door, its meaning had
not been lost upon the others, and her own half-formed conviction was
speedily confirmed.

"What has she?" cried Hippolyte, pausing in the final stage of his
operations upon the highly perfumed Flique.

"Do I know?" replied his wife with a shrug. "She thinks I stole her
cat--_I_!"

"Quite simply, she hates you," put in Flique. "And why not? She is old,
and fat, and her business is taking itself off, like that! You are young
and"--with a bow, as he rose--"beautiful, and your affairs march to a
marvel. She is jealous, c'est tout! It is a bad character, that."

"But, mon Dieu!"--

"But what does that say to you? Let her go her way, she and her cat. Au
r'voir, 'sieurs, 'dame."

And, rattling a couple of sous into the little urn reserved for tips,
the policeman took his departure, amid a chorus of "Merci, m'sieu', au
r'voir, m'sieu'," from Hippolyte and his duck-clad aids.

But what he had said remained behind. All day Madame Sergeot pondered
upon the incident of the morning and Abel Flique's comments thereupon,
seeking out some more plausible reason for this hitherto unsuspected
enmity than the mere contrast between her material conditions and those
of Madame Caille seemed to her to afford. For, to a natural placidity of
temperament, which manifested itself in a reluctance to incur the
displeasure of any one, had been lately added in Esperance a shrewd
commercial instinct, which told her that the fortunes of the Salon
Malakoff might readily be imperilled by an unfriendly tongue. In the
quartier, gossip spread quickly and took deep root. It was quite
imaginably within the power of Madame Caille to circulate such rumours
of Sergeot dishonesty as should draw their lately won custom from them
and leave but empty chairs and discontent where now all was prosperity
and satisfaction.

Suddenly there came to her the memory of that visit which she had never
returned. Mon Dieu! and was not that reason enough? She, the youngest
patronne in the quartier, to ignore deliberately the friendly call of a
neighbour! At least it was not too late to make amends. So, when
business lagged a little in the late afternoon, Mada