Justine was unmoved.
"Yes, Monsieur. In the feit slippers, I can never be sure of waking Monsieur. I wished particularly to wake Monsieur this morning. So I put on my clogs. I am sorry if it gives offense."
"But most assuredly it gives offense!" Rosing explained crossly. He added, beneath his breath: "Furthermore, it is unreasonable to suggest that I am a heavy sleeper. I am a remarkably light sleeper. Don't let this occur again, or I shall be extremely displeased."
"No, Monsieur," said Justine. She remained standing patiently by his bed, so that at length he asked her, curtly enough, what it was that she wanted of him.
She began, laboriously: "It is already nine o'clock.
"What of it? What if it is ten, eleven, or even twelve o'clock?"
"For more than an hour," pursued Justine, "there has been in the kitchen a young girl, whom I, personally, suppose to be a traveling gipsy. Impossible, Monsieur, to be rid of her. She will not go."
"How does she come to be in the kitchen?"
"Ah, that I can very easily explain. Before eight, this young person knocked. I admitted her, supposing her to be the milk. She was not the milk. But she walked into the kitchen."
"What has all this to do with me?" Rosing not unreasonably demanded.
"Monsieur will not allow me to finish! The young girl asked for Monsieur. I naturally replied that Monsieur was asleep in bed, but that in any case he was not in the habit of receiving vagrants in his home. Upon which the young girl shook her head, replying that Monsieur had invited her to visit him whenever she desired. She then, saying she was hungry, offered to teil the bonne aventure both to Marie and myself, in return for breakfast."