On the contrary, her eye roved about the saloon as she kept up a whispered conversation.

Laure had resumed her seat and once more settled herself down with all the majesty of an old image of Vice, whose face has been worn and polished by the kisses of the faithful.

Above the range of loaded plates she sat enthroned in all the opulence which a hotelkeeper enjoys after forty years of activity, and as she sat there she swayed her bloated following of large women, in comparison with the biggest of whom she seemed monstrous.
But Mme Robert had caught sight of Satin, and leaving Laure, she ran up and behaved charmingly, telling her how much she regretted not having been at home the day before.

When Satin, however, who was ravished at this treatment, insisted on finding room for her at the table, she vowed she had already dined.

She had simply come up to look about her.