But, after all, I considered that Frédérique had treated me very harshly. She might well have scolded me, have made me understand my mistake, without breaking off all relations with me on the spot. The idea of being so angry about a kiss! It was a most extraordinary thing, for that is one of the offences which the sex readily forgives. And then, there were so many extenuating circumstances! The supper, the champagne, the hour! And that hair of hers, which she arranged in a different way every minute!
It was the end of February, and the cold was still very sharp, when, on one of those keen, bracing mornings that invite one to walk, I happened to remember Mignonne Landernoy. Poor girl! How could I have forgotten her so long, and all for a coquette who certainly did not give a thought to me! I determined to repair my neglect at once. I enveloped myself in a heavy coat, put a comforter around my neck, and started for Rue Ménilmontant.
As I walked along, I recalled Mignonne's plight when I saw her in November; I thought of all that must have happened since then, and I was conscious of nothing but an eager desire to have news of the young woman. I quickened my pace, and at last found myself in front of the concierge's door. She was surrounded by cats, as on the occasion of my first visit.
At sight of a man enveloped in a heavy coat with the collar turned up, and with his face almost entirely hidden by a comforter, Madame Potrelle sat up in her chair and took one of the cats in her right hand as if to hurl it at my head.
"What do you want, monsieur?" she cried, with an imposing air; "what does this mean? Do people come into other people's houses disguised like that? Unmask yourself, monsieur; I don't answer masks, I tell you!"
I removed my comforter, and could not refrain from laughing at the concierge's alarm, as I said:
"Are comforters unknown in your quarter, madame? It seems to be quite as cold here as it is where I came from."
The good woman uttered an exclamation of surprise, for she recognized me; thereupon she placed on the stove the cat she had seized in lieu of a pistol, which instantly vanished. I stepped into the lodge.
"What! is it you, monsieur? Pardine! I remember you now! You're the young man with the shirts."
"The same, madame; it was I who left with you some work for—Madame Landernoy."