At last Morel came; brisk, and with something of an air, even in his blackness.
"Hello!" he said rather tenderly to his son.

"Have you bested me?
Shall you have a drink of something ?" Paul and all the children were bred up fierce anti-alcoholists, and he would have suffered more in drinking a lemonade before all the men than in having a tooth drawn.
The landlady looked at him _de haut en bas_, rather pitying, and at the same time, resenting his clear, fierce morality.

Paul went home, glowering.

He entered the house silently.

Friday was baking day, and there was usually a hot bun.