—Scream as much as you will, said the holy man as he recovered breath: here the walls are deaf, and you will have to deal with me.
—I just laugh at you. You old Punch!
—Old Punch! Punch!
—You ought to be ashamed.
—You insult me; take care.
—Let me go directly, or I shall know whom to complain to.
—Ah, you assume that tone! You want to make a complaint do you? And to whom, you little wretch?
—To whom it may concern.
—Ah, what a fine expression you have learnt by heart. Who is whom it may concern? I do not know him. Whoever he may be, whom it may concern will laugh in your face. You, a daughter of the streets, a rope-dancer, a clown, a ragged slut, you would lodge a complaint against me! Surely you do not know who I am. I am an honourable man; known everywhere, respected everywhere. Come, you see clearly that you are talking nonsense; be more reasonable again. What! it pleases me to cast my eyes upon you, to want to pass a little while with you agreeably; I honour you by stooping myself to a girl of your kind, and you refuse, and are fastidious. Has one ever seen such a thing? It is enough to make God laugh. Come, come now, not so many affectations: for the lost time, how much do you want? A hundred francs?
—You horrify me. Let me go away.