V


As they went up the stairs together--for Madame Dépine had quite
forgotten she was going out--an immense relief enlarged their souls.
Merely to mention the grey wig had been a vent for all this morbid
brooding; to abuse Madame la Propriétaire into the bargain was to pass
from the long isolation into a subtle sympathy.

"I wonder if she did say one franc fifty," observed Madame Valière,
reflectively.

"Without doubt," Madame Dépine replied viciously. "And fifty centimes
a day soon mount up to a grey wig."

"Not so soon," sighed Madame Valière.

"But then it is not only one client that she cheats."

"Ah! at that rate wigs fall from the skies," admitted Madame Valière.

"Especially if one has not to give dowries to one's nieces," said
Madame Dépine, boldly.

"And if one is mean on New Year's Day," returned Madame Valière, with
a shade less of mendacity.

They inhaled the immemorial airlessness of the staircase as if they
were breathing the free air of the forests depicted on its dirty-brown
wall-paper. It was the new atmosphere of self-respect that they were