"Yes, Monsieur."
"That's very good, that's very good."
And growing bolder:
"What is your name?"
"Célestine, Monsieur."
He rubbed his hands,—a mannerism of his,—and went on:
"Célestine. Ah! Ah! that's very good. Not a common name; in fact, a pretty name. Provided Madame does not oblige you to change it. She has that mania."
I answered, in a tone of dignified submission:
"I am at Madame's disposition."
"Undoubtedly, undoubtedly. But it is a pretty name."