Now he ground his teeth, as Rateau, with a yell, grabbed up the mop and, skating around on one leg, belaboured the floor lustily.
The perspiring conqueror then appeared in the doorway and advanced to reduce the chamber where Durtal was.

The latter had to return to the subjugated workroom, and the cat, shocked by the racket, arched its back and, rubbing against its master's legs, followed him to a place of safety.
In the thick of the conflict Des Hermies rang the door bell.
"I'll put on my shoes," cried Durtal, "and we'll get out of this.
Look--" he passed his hand over the table and brought back a coat of grime that made him appear to be wearing a grey glove--"look.

That brute turns the house upside down and knocks everything to pieces, and here's the result.

He leaves more dust when he goes than he found when he came in!" "Bah," said Des Hermies, "dust isn't a bad thing.

Besides having the taste of ancient biscuit and the smell of an old book, it is the floating velvet which softens hard surfaces, the fine dry wash which takes the garishness out of crude colour schemes.