At this reproach the young girl broke out with a peal of laughter, which she interrupted to sing in merry notes this new improvisation:
"O! See that bold signor,
So full of pride, honor?
To such a haughty flea
All bourgeois bend the knee!
La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla—"
After which Pradeline rose, took from the mantlepiece a cigar that she deftly lighted, and proceeded to hum her refrain between the puffs of smoke that she blew out of her cherry lips. She then stretched herself at full length upon a lounge, and drove in silence the bluish smoke of her choice Havana towards the ceiling.
Forgetting the anger with which he was seized shortly before, the Count of Plouernel could not avoid laughing at the originality displayed by the young girl, and said:
"Come, my little pet; let us talk seriously. I am not asking for songs, but for advice."
"I must first be informed of the quarter of the town in which your love is located," observed the young girl dogmatically, turning over on the lounge. "The knowledge of the quarter is very important in such matters. What may be done in one quarter, can not be done in another. Darling, there are prudish quarters, devout quarters, and decolleté quarters."
"Profoundly reasoned, my charmer. The influence of a quarter upon the virtue of its women is considerable. Without running any risk I may tell you that my shop-girl lives on St. Denis Street."
The young girl, who, stretched out upon the lounge, had been leisurely and nonchalantly rolling the clouds of smoke from her cigar before her, started at the mention of St. Denis Street, and rose so suddenly that the Count of Plouernel looked at her in astonishment, and cried:
"What the devil has come over you?"