They returned to the boulevard; it was a dull, damp day, and there was some mud on the pavement; but, as it was a Sunday, there was a great throng on the boulevards, for there are multitudes of people in Paris who are determined to walk out on Sunday, whatever the weather, and who, when the rain begins to fall in torrents, vanish only to reappear a moment later, armed with umbrellas, and stroll along, looking in the shop windows, as if the sun were shining.
Dupont offered Georgette his arm; he did not know how to begin the conversation, being sadly embarrassed. The girl enjoyed his confusion for some minutes, then began:
"Well, Monsieur l'Américain from Brives-la-Gaillarde, has your meeting with your friend Jolibois made you dumb? Really, that would be a pity, you say such pretty things sometimes!"
Dupont tried to recover his self-possession, and replied:
"My charming neighbor, I confess that that meeting was not very agreeable to me!"
"Oh! I believe you there!"
"In the first place, Jolibois was drunk; it was easy enough to see that he'd been drinking too much, for he didn't know what he was saying. He recognized me—and then he took me for somebody else."
Georgette stopped, looked her escort squarely in the face, and said in a very sharp tone:
"Monsieur Dupont, do you take me for a fool?"
"I, mademoiselle? God forbid! On the contrary, I have every reason to know that you have a very keen intellect, that you reason perfectly, and that you are also exceedingly shrewd and satirical."