“The Kangaroo!”
Surprised, Zozé opened her eyes wide.
“The Kangaroo!”
“Why, of course!” Gerald said. “Did you notice the way he held his arms and his hands? A regular kangaroo! All he lacks is the pocket in front, and little ones inside.”
Zozé laughed. Then she gave him a humorous account of her visit, described the furniture, the carpet, the hangings; she told of the smelling pot-au-feu; she gave an imitation of Mme. Raindal, of Mme. Boudois and of Mme. Lebercq, all in the hope of amusing Gerald.
The young man had a certain amount of natural acrobatic talent, although he had not appeared in amateur circus performances. While he listened to Zozé he stretched his limbs by walking round the room on his hands, his legs bent back and his feet hanging over his neck. When she had finished her story, he turned a somersault, slipped his arms behind his knees and, in that uncomfortable position, took a few frog-like jumps. Then he straightened himself up smartly and asked:
“Well then, are you going to engage this mummy merchant?”
“Why not; do you mind?” Zozé ventured, somewhat frightened.
“I!” Gerald replied. “No, not at all!... All tastes exist in nature!... You already have a novelist, three artists, two musicians and an abbé.... The kangaroo will complete your collection.... I congratulate you!”
He bowed with an affected grand manner and declared, as he pointed to the next room.