"What!" resumed Camille, "you don't recognise Laurent, little Laurent,
the son of daddy Laurent who owns those beautiful fields of corn out
Jeufosse way. Don't you remember? I went to school with him; he came
to fetch me of a morning on leaving the house of his uncle, who was our
neighbour, and you used to give him slices of bread and jam."
All at once Madame Raquin recollected little Laurent, whom she found
very much grown. It was quite ten years since she had seen him. She now
did her best to make him forget her lapse of memory in greeting him,
by recalling a thousand little incidents of the past, and by adopting a
wheedling manner towards him that was quite maternal. Laurent had seated
himself. With a peaceful smile on his lips, he replied to the questions
addressed to him in a clear voice, casting calm and easy glances around
him.
"Just imagine," said Camille, "this joker has been employed at the
Orleans-Railway-Station for eighteen months, and it was only to-night
that we met and recognised one another--the administration is so vast,
so important!"
As the young man made this remark, he opened his eyes wider, and pinched
his lips, proud to be a humble wheel in such a large machine.
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