"What else?"
"Because you are so beautiful. Answer! Why did you come to supper with me? To annoy some other fellow?"
"Not altogether."
"What else?"
"Because you were not frightened of me. Are you sure you are not frightened? Oh, remember, remember your horrible fate if I should like you too much!"
"It would be a thumping advertisement for you," said Pitou. "Let me urge you to try to secure it."
"Reckless boy!" she laughed, "Pour out some more wine. Ah, it is good, this! it is like old times. The strings of onions on the dear, dirty walls, and the serviettes that are so nice and damp! It was in restaurants like this, if my salary was paid, I used to sup on fête days."
"And if it was not paid?"
"I supped in imagination. My dear, I have had a cigarette for a supper, and the grass for a bed. I have tramped by the caravan while the stars faded, and breakfasted on the drum in the tent. And you—on a bench in the Champs Elysées, hein?"
"It has occurred."