at Saint-Omer, Lucien.… It is thirty years and more since his death."
"He was over sixty, Zoé, when I was less than twelve—but it was then that I committed a most daring outrage on his tie."
"I think I remember that rather stupid joke," said Zoé.
"No, Zoé, you do not remember my joke. If you did you would not speak of it like that. You know that Monsieur Malorey was very particular about his personal appearance and that he was always very dignified. You remember also that he was extremely decorous. He had an old-fashioned way of speaking, which was delightful. One day when he had invited our parents to dinner for the second time he himself offered a dish of artichokes to our mother, saying: 'Just a little more of the underpart, Madame.' He was speaking according to the best traditions of politeness and of language. For our ancestors never spoke of 'the bottom of an artichoke.' But the term was antiquated and our mother had great difficulty to keep from laughing. I cannot remember, Zoé, how we came to know the artichoke story."
Zoé, who was hemming white curtains, replied: "We heard it because our father
