“Her name is Lu-lu,” said Gaillard, Papillard coming to his aid.
“Lu-lu. Ah, that sets my heart at rest, M. Gaillard. There was never an innocent girl in Paris with that name.”
“Madame,” said the poet, “I think your perception is very clear. I would not disparage Mlle. Lu-lu’s innocence; still, she has a habit of casting her eyes about, and speaks of ‘larks.’”
“And tries to persuade poor Toto that she is an innocent. M. Gaillard, I have read your beautiful poems, and I know your mind, for I have seen it in your works. I have no fear of Toto whilst you are by; stay near him, M. Gaillard, watch over him.”
“I will.”
“And let me know how things go on. Hush! here he is.”
Toto entered in evening dress, covered with a light overcoat.
“Hello, Pelisson!”
“M. Pelisson has called to take you to dine with him,” said the Princesse. “He has some great journalistic feat to perform, and he wants your aid. Go, all of you, and be happy.”
“I am bursting!” cried Pelisson, when they were in the street. “Toto, take my arm; Gaillard, give me yours. Cab! No, I must work my electricity off by walking. We will dine at the Café de la Paix. I met Wolf an hour ago; he told me he would be there.”