It was thus that Christine, who in reality was very affected despite her pretended indifference, heard her husband and his friends excite themselves for three mortal hours about Mahoudeau’s unfortunate statue.  Since the others had been made acquainted with the story, they kept harping on every particular of it.  Sandoz thought the whole thing very wonderful; Jory and Gagniere discussed the strength of stays and trusses; the former mainly concerned about the monetary loss involved, and the other demonstrating with a chair that the statue might have been kept up.  As for Mahoudeau, still very shaky and growing dazed; he complained of a stiffness which he had not felt before; his limbs began to hurt him, he had strained his muscles and bruised his skin as if he had been caught in the embrace of a stone siren.  Christine washed the scratch on his cheek, which had begun to bleed again, and it seemed to her as if the mutilated bathing girl had sat down to table with them, as if she alone was of any importance that day; for she alone seemed to interest Claude, whose narrative, repeated a score of times, was full of endless particulars about the emotion he had felt on seeing that bosom and those hips of clay shattered at his feet.

However, at dessert there came a diversion, for Gagniere all at once remarked to Jory: 

’By the way, I saw you with Mathilde the day before yesterday.  Yes, yes, in the Rue Dauphine.’

Jory, who had turned very red, tried to deny it; ’Oh, a mere accidental meeting—­honour bright!’ he stammered.  ’I don’t know where she hangs out, or I would tell you.’

‘What! is it you who are hiding her?’ exclaimed Mahoudeau.  ’Well, nobody wants to see her again!’

The truth was that Jory, throwing to the winds all his habits of prudence and parsimony, was now secretly providing for Mathilde.  She had gained an ascendency over him by his vices.

They still lingered at table, and night was falling when they escorted Mahoudeau to his own door.  Claude and Christine, on reaching home, took Jacques from the doorkeeper, and found the studio quite chilly, wrapped in such dense gloom that they had to grope about for several minutes before they were able to light the lamp.  They also had to light the stove again, and it struck seven o’clock before they were able to draw breath at their ease.  They were not hungry, so they merely finished the remains of some boiled beef, mainly by way of encouraging the child to eat his soup; and when they had put him to bed, they settled themselves with the lamp betwixt them, as was their habit every evening.