Second B. (who not being at home in the language, rather resents his companion's laughter). What's that she's saying?
First B. (who laughed because he knew there was a joke about the Exhibition). Eh?—oh! I'll tell you afterwards.
[Hopes his friend will have forgotten all about it by that time.
Second B. (pertinaciously, as the Singer kisses her hand, and rushes precipitately off stage). Well, what was all that about?
First B. (who, upon reflection, finds that he hasn't the faintest idea). Oh, nothing very much—more the manner, you know, than anything else—it's the men who have all the really funny songs.
[A Male Artiste appears, bowing and kicking up his left leg behind: the First Briton bends forward with an anxious frown, determined to let nothing escape him this time. Fortunately, as M. Charlemagne, the Comic Singer, possesses a powerful voice, the First Briton is able to follow most of the words, from which, although they reach his ear in a somewhat perverted form, he contrives to extract intense amusement. This is how the Chanson reaches him:—
Seul boulevard silent vous arrête:
Quand monde a tout départ n'amas,
[He can't quite make out this last word.
Repondez vitement—
[Something he doesn't catch.