“Oh, yes! the father of the child the little sempstress opposite had.”
“Oh! as to that, I don’t believe a word of it! It’s all made up by evil-tongued gossips.”
“Look out, my friend, you are cutting me.”
“That’s nothing; it was a bit of straw on your cheek, that caught the razor.—You must know that if Lagripe had got the sempstress with child, my sister wouldn’t have married him.”
“Why not, pray? Between ourselves, my good fellow, your sister——”
“What’s that? what do you mean, Monsieur Sauvageon?”
“All right, my friend. Give me a bit of powder, and let us return to the somnambulist.—You were saying that he cured his companion’s colic last night?”
“I don’t say that he cured him; but I tell you that he discovered the most hidden things, among others a soup-tureen that was under the landlord’s bed.”
“And which someone had probably stolen and hidden there until the time came to carry it away.”
“That is quite possible; but this much is certain, that he told everything that was in the tureen!”