"I will not burden you, madame," M. Étienne answered from the story below. But she was loath to stop talking, and hung over the railing to call:
"Beware of your footing, monsieur. Those second-floor people are not so tidy as they might be; one stumbles over all sorts of their rubbish out in the public way."
The door in front of us opened with a startling suddenness, and a big, brawny wench bounced out to demand of us:
"What is that she says? What are you saying of us, you slut?"
We had no mind to be mixed in the quarrel. We fled for our lives down the stair.
The old carl, though his sweeping was done, leaned on his broom on the outer step.
"So you didn't find M. Bernet at home? I could have told you as much had you been civil enough to ask."
I would have kicked the old curmudgeon, but M. Étienne drew two gold pieces from his pouch.
"Perchance if I ask you civilly, you will tell me with whom M. Bernet went out last night?"
"Who says he went out with anybody?"