"It is a blackcap, monsieur."
"Ah! indeed!... Why do you keep a blackcap?"
"Because it sings so nicely, monsieur."
"Really?"
"Stop and listen...."
And the porter would put his hands on his hips and wag his head up and down with a smile on his face as he listened to the singing of his blackcap.
"Ah! you are right!... You are married?"
"Yes, monsieur,—been married three times."
"And where is your woman?"
"My wife, Monsieur means?"