"But your waistcoats don't fit, monsieur——"
"Oh! I think that it's a very small matter; you are not a tailor, and, of course, you could not succeed in doing everything just right at the first trial; but if you will allow me to try on one of them in your presence——"
"Pardi! of course you must try 'em on," cried the concierge; "there's no other way to see what's wrong! and, after all, a waistcoat's different from a pair of breeches!"
Mignonne lowered her eyes at Madame Potrelle's remark. I removed my coat and put on one of the waistcoats. Mignonne had no choice but to come to me and touch my chest and back, like a tailor taking my measure. But while she was making her examination, I was careful not to look at her once; so that she was somewhat reassured.
"I see what needs to be done, monsieur: the collar is too low; it's not much to do, and then I think they'll fit very well. I will take them away with me, and to-morrow——"
She hesitated, and I made haste to say:
"I shall not be here to-morrow, but that makes no difference; if you bring the waistcoats back, be good enough to leave them with the concierge; you need not take the trouble to come up."
"Yes, monsieur," she murmured, almost smiling, for she was beginning to feel altogether at her ease. Madame Potrelle looked at her with a triumphant expression.
I offered Mignonne the money that I owed her. She looked at it and said:
"What, monsieur, as much as that—for so little work? It's too much, monsieur!"