"A telescope at the opera--the gods forbid! Here, however, is my opera-glass, if you like to use it."
Josephine turned it over curiously, and peeped first through one tube and then through the other.
"Which ought I to look through?" asked she.
"Both, of course."
"Both! How can I?"
"Why thus--as you look through a pair of spectacles."
"Ciel! I can't manage that! I can never look through anything without covering up one eye with my hand."
"Then I think you had better be contented with your own charming eyes, ma belle" said I, nervously. "How do you like your bouquet?"
Josephine sniffed at it as if she were taking snuff, and pronounced it perfect. Just then the opera began. I withdrew into the shade, and Josephine was silenced for a while in admiration of the scenery and the dresses. By and by, she began to yawn.
"Ah, mon Dieu!" said she, "when will they have done singing? I have not heard a word all this time."