The cashier behind the counter, who evidently foresaw trouble, called out to him in shrill tones:
"You've made a mistake, go back to the buvette. You've nothing to do out here!"
Removing his helmet, the gallant knight made the lady a sweeping bow.
"Your servant, Madame. Your humble servant," he continued. "Cyprien Fremont, called Cyp for short."
"Did you hear what I said? Now then, take yourself off," cried the ungracious adored one.
But the poilu was not to be so silenced.
Putting his hand to his heart and addressing the assembly:
"Ungrateful country!" he cried, "is it thus that you receive your sons who shed their blood for you?"
"That's all right, but go and tell it elsewhere. Go on, I say!"
"I've only got one more word to say and then it will be over."