VII
MADEMOISELLE MIGNONNE
Monsieur Fouvenard paused to take breath, and drank a glass of champagne; while we waited for him to continue his narrative, which, I confess, interested me deeply. For some unknown reason, I trembled to think of that pretty little Mignonne yielding to the seductions of the narrator, who, in truth, did not seem to me particularly seductive. But I am not a woman, and it is possible that that Capuchin beard possessed a fascination which I cannot understand.
"I soon reached Fontenay," he continued; "I had only to follow the crowd of people headed for the fête. Once there, I said to myself: 'I shall be very unlucky if I don't find Mignonne.'
"I had been strolling about for some time in front of the improvised stalls on a sort of square, when I discovered my three damsels, still arm in arm, halting in front of all the curiosities, games, and open-air shows, and giving full vent to the natural merriment of their age, intensified by Mignonne's satirical comments.
"Most of the young men bowed to them and made some jocose remark, generally vulgar and indecent, as the custom is among the country folk, whose innocence has always seemed to me largely apocryphal. The two Dargenettes replied in the same tone; but when Mignonne said anything, the young men did not retort; they sneaked away shamefaced, and I heard them more than once say to one another:
"'Oh! when Mamzelle Mignonne puts her oar in, I ain't smart enough to answer her back; she's too sharp, she is! Anyone can see that she's lived in Paris.'
"I approached the three friends and stopped at the stalls and shows at which they stopped. Mignonne noticed me, and I fancied that she blushed. One of the Dargenettes looked at me and said:
"'Look! there's that fellow that was eating Mère Giroux's gingerbread. It looks funny for a Paris gentleman, with a beard, to eat gingerbread like that.'
"I saw Mignonne nudge the speaker. Probably she told her to keep quiet, for I heard nothing more.
"I tried to exchange a word or two with them, but they pretended not to hear me, and made no reply. However, I saw that they whispered together, and from time to time looked covertly to see if I was still there. At last they came to a halt where the dancing was in progress. I was waiting for that. Dancing is not exactly my favorite pastime; but when it's a question of seducing somebody's daughter, then I become a fearless dancer. As for young women, almost all of them love dancing; indeed, there are some in whom the taste amounts to a passion; but if they had to dance without men, you may be sure that their love for dancing would soon vanish. Whence I conclude that the actual pleasure of capering is a secondary matter. But dancing gives an opportunity to show one's grace and lightness of foot, to play the flirt, to listen to soft speeches, often to passionate avowals, accompanied by a pressure of the hand, before the nose of a jealous spectator, who sees nothing, because it's a part of the figure!—Is it surprising, then, that almost all women have an inborn passion for the dance?