"Car moi, je l'aime
J'aime mon grand frisé."
And when she sang "Je l'aime," she invested the words with passion and renunciation.
They clamoured for another verse, crying "Bis ... Bis," in throaty tones, but she only came on to bow to them, and walk off again with that swaying stride.
"Eh, bien!" said a voice at Humphrey's elbow, "she is very good, our little Desirée, hein?"
He turned half round in his chair. At first he did not recognize the immaculately clothed young man, with the fair, long hair, who smiled at him, and then he recollected that they had met in the office of Le Parisien.
"M. Charnac, isn't it?" Humphrey asked. "I didn't know you at once.... Yes, she's very good. What's her name?"
"Desirée Lebeau," Charnac answered. He looked at Humphrey again, still smiling.
"Do you often come here?" he asked.