"The last time I saw you was at the dinner Dupréval gave us, where Fouvenard told us such a villainous story."
"By the way, you were rather intimate with Fouvenard, I think; what is he doing now?"
"I don't know. I never see him. I am very far from being a saint, but his adventure with that poor girl from Sceaux made me detest him."
"Give me your hand, Balloquet; I am glad that you think as I do on that subject. I should have had a very poor opinion of you, if you had continued to be that man's friend. Take another cigar, and go on; I am listening."
"You remember those two famous wedding parties, don't you? I attended Mademoiselle Pétronille Bocal's, where, after some rather lively scrimmages, I became the jewel, the Benjamin of the family, thanks to your arrival with Papa Bocal's landlord. You saw how refreshments were served at that function: punch, mulled wine, and bischoff circulating all the time. The women were of all the colors of the rainbow, and so lively and free and easy! the number of glances that were flashed at me was fabulous! but I had cast my spell on a buxom, high-colored brunette, with red roses in her hair."
"I remember your charmer; I saw you talking with her."
"In that case, you see that I don't flatter her. To make a long story short, after supper, during which there was a time when the whole company was fighting because Madame Girie, the groom's mother, swore that she hadn't had the second joint of a chicken that rightfully belonged to her, and that they hadn't given her any truffles when all the others had some, we left the mother-in-law quarrelling, the father swearing, the groom apologizing, and the bride weeping and tearing her hair, and stole away, my widow and I, in much better spirits than the givers of the feast. But it's almost always like that; sic vos—you know the rest.
"My new conquest sold gloves; she had a fine shop on Boulevard des Italiens. No end of style! Mirrors everywhere, violet-wood counter, and an odor of perfumery as soon as you entered the shop! I was in raptures. 'At last, here's a woman who won't cost you anything, and they're very scarce!' I said to myself. In fact, during the first few days, my pretty widow invited me to dine in her back shop. We dined very well, for Madame Satiné likes good things, the delicacies of the season; moreover, she kept me in gloves; as soon as she saw that mine were shabby, she'd say:
"'Fi! fi! what sort of gloves are you wearing? I like to have a man always well gloved; that's the way to recognize a dandy.'
"I let her do as she pleased; I can never refuse a woman anything.