SMACK! IS THE SOUND of the girl's hand falling squarely upon the backside of M. Pujol. Smack! is the sound of her palm meeting the flesh of his bared cheeks.
Tonight, though, the widow hears nothing. No sound at all. She leans forward, frowning, in her delicate chair. She cups a hand around her ear.
As M. Pujol twists his head over his left shoulder, Adrien steps out from beneath his shroud, and Charlotte lifts her fingers from her strings. They all look at Madeleine, who is wincing and wagging her hand, as if from the sting of a very sharp blow.
At last she declares: The widow has gone completely deaf!
The performers stare at her effrontery. Hasn't the widow just complained of M. Pujol's sighs, and punished the servants for singing in the kitchen?
I am not in the least deaf, the widow says.
All but Madeleine nod slowly in agreement.
Leaning back in her chair, the widow says, Why not try again.
But Madeleines paddles are now fists, and her arms hang stiff at her sides like two furious exclamation marks.
No, she says.
She is obstinacy itself.