“My dear,” said the portress, with an air of importance, “here is some one to see you.”
A line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain’s hat and knocked it off.
“What is it you wish, monsieur?” said Malaga, picking up the hat and giving it to him.
“I saw you at the Circus,” said Thaddeus, “and you reminded me of a daughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my Heloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to be of some service to you, if you will permit me.”
“Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,” said Madame Chapuzot; “nothing could be more straightforward, more gallant.”
“But I am not gallant, my good lady,” exclaimed Paz. “I am an unfortunate father who tries to deceive himself by a resemblance.”
“Then am I to pass for your daughter?” said Malaga, slyly, and not in the least suspecting the perfect sincerity of his proposal.
“Yes,” said Paz, “and I’ll come and see you sometimes. But you shall be lodged in better rooms, comfortably furnished.”
“I shall have furniture!” cried Malaga, looking at Madame Chapuzot.
“And servants,” said Paz, “and all you want.”