She was really pretty only from five till seven in the afternoon--
that being the time at which Alphonse invariably visited the cafe.
Then her eyes never left him; she got a fresher color, her mouth
was always trembling into a smile, and her movements became
somewhat nervous. That was the only time of the day when she was
ever known to give a random answer or to make a mistake in the
accounts; and the waiters tittered and nudged each other.
For it was generally thought that she had formerly had relations
with Alphonse, and some would even have it that she was still his
mistress.
She herself best knew how matters stood; but it was impossible to
be angry with Monsieur Alphonse. She was well aware that he cared
no more for her than for twenty others; that she had lost him--
nay, that he had never really been hers. And yet her eyes besought
a friendly look, and when he left the cafe without sending her a
confidential greeting, it seemed as though she suddenly faded, and
the waiters said to each other: "Look at madame; she is gray
tonight."
Over at the windows it was still light enough to read the papers;
a couple of young men were amusing themselves with watching the
crowds which streamed past. Seen through the great plate-glass
windows, the busy forms gliding past one another in the dense,
wet, rainy air looked like fish in an aquarium. Further back in
the cafe, and over the billiard-tables, the gas was lighted.
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