“I beg your pardon; but it seems to me that this one will do to begin with. He is gallant, Costeclar, extremely gallant, and, moreover, generous as a lord. Why should he not offer to that youthful and timid damsel a nice little position in mahogany and rosewood? That way, we should have the pleasure of meeting her around the lake.”
And she began singing again, with a slight variation,
“Manon, who, before the war,
Carried clothes for a living,
Now for her gains is trusting
To that insane Costeclar.”
“Ah, that big red-headed girl is terribly provoking!” thought M. de Tregars.
But, as he did not as yet understand very clearly what she wished to come to, he kept on his guard, and remained cold as marble.
Already she had again turned towards him.
“What a face you are making!” she said. “Are you jealous of the fiery Costeclar, by chance?”
“No, mademoiselle, no!”
“Then, why don’t you want him to succeed in his love? But he will, you’ll see! Five hundred francs on Costeclar! Do you take it? No? I am sorry. It’s twenty-five napoleons lost for me. I know very well that Mlle.—what’s her name?”
“Gilberte.”