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"
Will
he
never
go
?
"
thought
she
.
"
Half
an
ounce
of
resin
and
turpentine
,
four
ounces
of
yellow
wax
,
and
three
half
ounces
of
animal
charcoal
,
if
you
please
,
to
clean
the
varnished
leather
of
my
togs
.
"
The
druggist
was
beginning
to
cut
the
wax
when
Madame
Homais
appeared
,
Irma
in
her
arms
,
Napoleon
by
her
side
,
and
Athalie
following
.
She
sat
down
on
the
velvet
seat
by
the
window
,
and
the
lad
squatted
down
on
a
footstool
,
while
his
eldest
sister
hovered
round
the
jujube
box
near
her
papa
.
The
latter
was
filling
funnels
and
corking
phials
,
sticking
on
labels
,
making
up
parcels
.
Around
him
all
were
silent
;
only
from
time
to
time
,
were
heard
the
weights
jingling
in
the
balance
,
and
a
few
low
words
from
the
chemist
giving
directions
to
his
pupil
.
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"
And
how
's
the
little
woman
?
"
suddenly
asked
Madame
Homais
.
"
Silence
!
"
exclaimed
her
husband
,
who
was
writing
down
some
figures
in
his
waste-book
.
"
Why
did
n't
you
bring
her
?
"
she
went
on
in
a
low
voice
.
"
Hush
!
hush
!
"
said
Emma
,
pointing
with
her
finger
to
the
druggist
.
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But
Binet
,
quite
absorbed
in
looking
over
his
bill
,
had
probably
heard
nothing
.
At
last
he
went
out
.
Then
Emma
,
relieved
,
uttered
a
deep
sigh
.
"
How
hard
you
are
breathing
!
"
said
Madame
Homais
.
"
Well
,
you
see
,
it
's
rather
warm
,
"
she
replied
.