"I can't, I can't; I have too much respect for you, Monsieur le Marquis."
"Oh, you ass! You were always silly like that. Shake hands, my dear old Dodger. Do you know that you've grown a bit stout!"
"That's not Virginie's fault, for she's continually making scenes."
Chéri-Bibi chuckled.
"And you let her make scenes! Oh, my dear Dodger, that is all that was wanted. It's clear that you've become a respectable citizen."
They looked into each other's eyes for a moment in silence. They were seated facing one another, and they held each other's hand, and their eyes spoke for their hearts in which bloomed the red flower of their friendship. Thenceforward complete trust returned to them as in the brave days of their youth, when they were engaged in so many struggles against an adverse fate, and their minds sped back to the time of their pleasantest memories. But Chéri-Bibi's life was so ordered that his pleasantest memories were always enveloped with the tragedy of death. And those who might have heard the two men thus conjure up with emotion their delightful past would undoubtedly have fled from them in terror.
"I asked you if you had been long in France, Monsieur le Bleeder."
"The date is no business of yours," Chéri-Bibi returned. "I've been busy altering my status. I've managed it. Now I am quite easy in my mind at La Villette, not to mention that I have a coal-dealer's shop in view. As soon as I had an hour to spare I came to see you. I knew that you were alone because I had your wife's movements watched. I didn't want you to have any worries in your household on my account. Do you follow me, Dodger?"
"You have always been very considerate, Monsieur le Bleeder."
"When Madame Hilaire comes back I shall be warned by a signal from a fellow on the look-out."