She remained looking on whilst Marguerite showed the models. This girl assumed a dry polite voice with customers, the disagreeable manner of a young person robed in silk, accustomed to rub against elegance in every form, and full, unknown to herself, of jealousy and rancour. When she heard Madame Marty say that she did not wish to pay more than two hundred francs, she made a grimace of pity. Oh! madame would certainly give more, for it would be impossible to find anything at all suitable for two hundred francs. Then she threw some of the common mantles on a counter with a gesture which signified: "Just see, aren't they pitiful?" Madame Marty dared not think them nice after that; but bent over to murmur in Madame Desforges's ear: "Don't you prefer to be served by men? One feels more comfort
