"Aha-a-a! precizely ac-rozz the street from Mme. Alexandre!" said the hostess. "M'sieu' et Madame De l'Isle! Now I detec' that!"
"Have they no son?--or--or daughter?" he asked.
"Not any," Mme. Alexandre broke in with a significant sparkle; "juz' the two al-lone."
"They live over my shop," Beloiseau said. "You muz' know that double gate nex' adjoining me."
"Oh, that lovely piece of ironwork? I took that for a part of your establishment."
"I have only the uze of it with them. My grandpère he made those gate', for the father of Mme. De l'Isle, same year he made those great openwork gate' of Hotel St. Louis. You speak of episode'! One summer, renovating that hotel, they paint' those gate'--of iron openwork--in imitation--mon Dieu!--of marbl'! Ciel! the tragedy of that! Yes, they live over me; in the whole square, both side' the street, last remaining of the 'igh society."
When Mme. Alexandre finally rose to go, and had kissed the upturned brow of her hostess, she went by an inner door and rear balcony. And when Chester and Beloiseau began to take leave their host said to Chester:
"You dine with M. De l'Isle Tuesday. Well, if you'll come again here the next evening we'll attend to--that business."
"Wouldn't that be losing time? I can just as well come sooner."
"No," said madame, "better that Wednesday."