"You see," Mme. Cottard went on, "Mme. de Crecy was there; need I say
more? When Odette is anywhere it's never long before she begins talking
about you. And you know quite well, it isn't nasty things she says. What!
you don't believe me!" she went on, noticing that Svrann looked sceptical.
And, carried away by the sincerity of her conviction, without putting any
evil meaning into the word, which she used purely in the sense in which
one employs it to speak of the affection that unites a pair of friends:
"Why, she _adores_ you! No, indeed; I'm sure it would never do to say
anything against you when she was about; one would soon be taught one's
place! Whatever we might be doing, if we were looking at a picture, for
instance, she would say, 'If only we had him here, he's the man who could
tell us whether it's genuine or not. There's no one like him for that.'
And all day long she would be saying, 'What can he be doing just now? I
do hope, he's doing a little work! It's too dreadful that a fellow with
such gifts as he has should be so lazy.' (Forgive me, won't you.) 'I can
see him this very moment; he's thinking of us, he's wondering where we
are.
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