"I am very glad you needed an umbrella. Bonjour, Monsieur Rochebrune! hope to see you again soon!"
He disappeared, running. I examined the article I had purchased: it was a very good umbrella, with a laurel-wood stick; the head was a trefoil with silver trimmings, and the cover dark green silk. After all, I had not made a bad bargain; but I would have been glad not to have it on my hands just then, for the weather was fine, and it makes a man look very foolish to carry an umbrella under such circumstances.
But I had my ticket. I entered a café and called for paper and ink. I put the ticket in an envelope, with this superscription: For Mademoiselle Rosette, at Madame Ratapond's.
I carried the missive myself, for the name Ratapond did not inspire confidence. Moreover, I was not sorry to ask a few questions and find out a little more about Mademoiselle Rosette.
I arrived at Rue Meslay, and found the designated number. I passed under a porte cochère and was walking toward the concierge's lodge, when an enormous woman, who reminded me of one of the handsome sappers and miners who change their sex during the Carnival, came toward me from the farther end of the courtyard.
"Who do you want to see, monsieur?" she demanded.
"Does Madame Ratapond live in this house, madame?"
"Yes, monsieur; fifth floor above the entresol, the door opposite the stairs."
"I beg your pardon, madame; but what is that lady's business?"
As I asked the question, I felt in my pocket and took out a two-franc piece, which I slipped into the hand of the colossus, who instantly assumed a coquettish, mincing air and seemed to diminish in size until she reached my level.