ENTHUSIASTS
Now the shutters of an upper window of the villa open and the blond head of Suzanne is thrust out in greeting.
“Bonjour, mes enfants!” she calls cheerily to the three.
“Ah! ah! Oh! oh! tiens! it is really you at last!” cry the industrious ones.
“Oh! you lazy girl,” shouts Jacques.
“Bonjour,” adds the old gentleman in mock sarcasm. “It is a pity you are so confoundedly lazy that you can not give us the honor of your gracious company! A fine fisherwoman you, who swore last night by Psyche you would be up before the sun had crept over yonder hillock and kissed the river with its rays!”
“Tout à l’heure, mon vieux,” returns Suzanne, with a rippling laugh. “The day is yet young; au revoir, mes enfants.” And Suzanne, extricating one dimpled elbow from her peignoir, blows the three enthusiasts a kiss and closes the shutters.
“Ingrate!” cry all three.
“Eh! do you hear?” roars Jacques, “we have Chambertin for lunch—you shall not have a drop.”
“Dormeuse!” shouts Yvette. “You shall not see Gaston when he comes, or even the tail of my beautiful goujon!”