I concluded to tap him on the shoulder.
"Monsieur Balloquet," said I, "I would be glad to say a word to you, if possible."
"It isn't possible at this moment. I am engaged. I am explaining to mademoiselle the proper method of applying leeches."
And Balloquet gave me a meaning glance. I understood that his interview had reached an interesting point, and I was about to walk away, when I felt a hand on my arm. It was the little marionette named Ravinet, who was trying to make fast to me, and shouting—for everybody in the room shouted instead of speaking:
"Ah! you're one of the landlord's guests; I recognize you. You're the man who polks so well! It's very polite of you to come back to us. You'll polk again, won't you? If you want to please Aunt Chalumeau, you'll invite her; poor, dear woman, she's never polked in her life, and she's dying to. Her hair dresser told her she had the right make-up."
I had no inclination whatever to put Aunt Chalumeau's make-up to the test, and I told Cousin Ravinet, who struck me as being well primed, and persisted in hanging on my arm:
"I will tell you in confidence that I shall not polk again for some time; I am very tired."
"Oh! that's a pity. Do you belong to the Opéra?"
"I? No, indeed!"
"Are you related to my cousin's landlord?"