“And where do you suppose I should find money to buy these wonders?” said Ninny Moulin. “I repeat to you, all this is yours if you will but listen to me!”
“How is this?” said Rose-Pompon, with the utmost amazement; “is what you tell me in downright earnest?”
“In downright earnest.”
“This offer to make me a great lady?”
“The jewels might convince you of the reality of my offers.”
“And you propose all this to me for some one else, my poor Ninny Moulin?”
“One moment,” said the religious writer, with a comical air of modesty, “you must know me well enough, my beloved pupil, to feel certain that I should be incapable of inducing you to commit an improper action. I respect myself too much for that—leaving out the consideration that it would be unfair to Philemon, who confided to me the guardianship of your virtue.”
“Then, Ninny Moulin,” said Rose-Pompon, more and more astonished, “on my word of honor, I can make nothing of it.
“Yet, ‘tis all very simple, and I—”
“Oh! I’ve found it,” cried Rose-Pompon, interrupting Ninny Moulin; “it is some gentleman who offers me his hand, his heart, and all the rest of it. Could you not tell me that directly?”