And they went off swaying their trains.
Forestier laughed. "I say, old fellow, you are very successful with the women. You must look after it. It may lead to something." He was silent for a moment, and then continued in the dreamy tone of men who think aloud: "It is through them, too, that one gets on quickest."
And as Duroy still smiled without replying, he asked: "Are you going to stop any longer? I have had enough of it. I am going home."
The other murmured: "Yes, I shall stay a little longer. It is not late."
Forestier rose. "Well, good-night, then. Till to-morrow. Don't forget. Seventeen Rue Fontaine, at half-past seven."
"That is settled. Till to-morrow. Thanks."
They shook hands, and the journalist walked away.
As soon as he had disappeared Duroy felt himself free, and again he joyfully felt the two pieces of gold in his pocket; then rising, he began to traverse the crowd, which he followed with his eyes.
He soon caught sight of the two women, the blonde and the brunette, who were still making their way, with their proud bearing of beggars, through the throng of men.
He went straight up to them, and when he was quite close he no longer dared to do anything.