He sat there, on the first step, resting his big head in his hands, and gazing fixedly in front of him, with the vacant stare and mute stubbornness of a faithful dog.
"You were waiting for me, weren't you ?" Pierre said to him, taking in the situation at a glance.

"Well, go and tell Monsieur Macquart that I've come home.

Go and ask for him at the Town Hall." Cassoute rose and took himself off, with an awkward bow.

He was going to get himself arrested like a lamb, to the great delight of Pierre, who laughed as he went upstairs, asking himself, with a feeling of vague surprise: "I have certainly plenty of courage; shall I turn out as good a diplomatist ?" Felicite had not gone to bed last night.

He found her dressed in her Sunday clothes, wearing a cap with lemon-coloured ribbons, like a lady expecting visitors.