A week later she had gone to Faucheur’s to buy a pound of vermicelli, and was lingering on her way back, gossiping with a neighbour, with her child on her arm, when a gentleman who alighted from the ferry-boat approached and asked her: 

‘Does not Monsieur Claude Lantier live near here?’

She was taken aback, and simply answered: 

‘Yes, monsieur; if you’ll kindly follow me—­’

They walked on side by side for about a hundred yards.  The stranger, who seemed to know her, had glanced at her with a good-natured smile; but as she hurried on, trying to hide her embarrassment by looking very grave, he remained silent.  She opened the door and showed the visitor into the studio, exclaiming: 

‘Claude, here is somebody for you.’

Then a loud cry rang out; the two men were already in each other’s arms.

‘Oh, my good old Pierre! how kind of you to come!  And Dubuche?’

’He was prevented at the last moment by some business, and he sent me a telegram to go without him.’

’All right, I half expected it; but you are here.  By the thunder of heaven, I am glad!’

And, turning towards Christine, who was smiling, sharing their delight: 

’It’s true, I didn’t tell you.  But the other day I met Dubuche, who was going up yonder, to the place where those monsters live—­’

But he stopped short again, and then with a wild gesture shouted: 

’I’m losing my wits, upon my word.  You have never spoken to each other, and I leave you there like that.  My dear, you see this gentleman?  He’s my old chum, Pierre Sandoz, whom I love like a brother.  And you, my boy; let me introduce my wife.  And you have got to give each other a kiss.’

Christine began to laugh outright, and tendered her cheek heartily.  Sandoz had pleased her at once with his good-natured air, his sound friendship, the fatherly sympathy with which he looked at her.  Tears of emotion came to her eyes as he kept both her hands in his, saying: 

’It is very good of you to love Claude, and you must love each other always, for love is, after all, the best thing in life.’

Then, bending to kiss the little one, whom she had on her arm, he added:  ‘So there’s one already!’

While Christine, preparing lunch, turned the house up-side down, Claude retained Sandoz in the studio.  In a few words he told him the whole of the story, who she was, how they had met each other, and what had led them to start housekeeping together, and he seemed to be surprised when his friend asked him why they did not get married.  In faith, why?  Because they had never even spoken about it, because they would certainly be neither more nor less happy; in short it was a matter of no consequence whatever.

‘Well,’ said the other, ’it makes no difference to me; but, if she was a good and honest girl when she came to you, you ought to marry her.’