"Good, good! And of yellow leather?"
"I have none of that kind, Monsieur."
"You will have to have some; I will give you some."
"Thank you, Monsieur."
"Good, good! Be still!"
I was frightened, for dull gleams had just passed over his eyes, and drops of sweat were rolling down his forehead. Thinking that he was about to faint, I was on the point of shouting, of calling for help. But the crisis quieted down, and, after a few minutes, he continued in a calmer voice, though a little saliva still foamed at the corner of his lips.
"It is nothing. It is over. Understand me, my child. I am a little of a maniac. At my age that is allowed, is it not? For instance, I do not think it proper that a woman should black her own shoes, much less mine. I have a great respect for women, Marie, and cannot endure that. So I will black your shoes, your little shoes, your dear little shoes. I will take care of them. Listen to me. Every evening, before going to bed, you will carry your shoes into my room; you will place them near the bed, on a little table, and every morning, on coming to open my windows, you will take them away again."
And, as I manifested a prodigious astonishment, he added:
"Oh! now, it is nothing enormous that I ask of you; it is a very natural thing, after all. And if you are very nice...."
Quickly he took from his pocket two louis, which he handed to me.