"She is seeking something for you." Had he told them precisely what she was seeking they had been, possibly, less at ease.
"Let her hasten," cried the courier, "for I am famished." "Have patience, Anatole," murmured the ever-gentle Cadoux.

"The good woman did not expect us." Anatole! The name buzzed through Caron's brain.

To whom did it belong?
He knew of someone who bore it.

Yet question himself though he might, he could at the moment find no answer.

And then the courier created a diversion by addressing him.
"Fill yourself a glass, mon bonhomme," said he.