"It doesn't anger me at all, Madame Potrelle; the better one knows the world, the more fully one realizes how hard it is to inspire confidence. That is sad, like almost all truths."
"So, then, monsieur, I offered to bring you the waistcoats; she was more than willing, and here I am. If monsieur wants to examine the work—here's the pattern."
I looked at what the woman had brought me, and was perfectly amazed at the exquisite quality of the work. I had intended the waistcoats for my servant; but they were as fine as if they had come from one of our most famous tailors.
"The buttonholes are pretty well made, seems to me," said the concierge; "but perhaps monsieur don't agree with me?"
"Indeed I do, Madame Potrelle; and I can't understand how that young woman can have succeeded so well with work that she isn't accustomed to."
"Oh! dame! it's because she was bound to satisfy monsieur. Now, you must see if they fit you all right."
I tried on the waistcoats; we were compelled to admit that there was a defect in the way they were cut; they gaped apart at the top. The poor concierge walked round and round me, crying:
"I'm sure it's a small matter, just a little bit to be taken in somewhere; but we must find out where. If our young woman could see 'em on you, I'll bet she'd know in a minute what needs to be done."
"I should be very glad to go to her room and try them on; but she's so afraid of me! No matter! I'll keep them as they are."
"No, monsieur, no; I don't propose to have her send you work that ain't done right; you pay too well."