"Oh! that's fine! How much better we go with the piano!—Not quite so fast, madame, please! The polka isn't like the waltz."
But I could do no more; I stopped and threw myself into a chair. Mademoiselle Rosette thereupon concluded to sit down; and as she took out her handkerchief to wipe her face, she dropped a thimble, two skeins of cotton, a piece of cake, two sous, a spool of thread, a card, a lump of sugar, a skein of silk, and three plums.
She got down on all fours to pick them up, then glanced at the clock and cried:
"Mon Dieu! half-past one! To think that I've been here an hour and a half, and I didn't mean to stay five minutes! Oh! what a trouncing I shall get! luckily, I don't care a hang! Adieu, Monsieur What's-your-name! I'm going."
She had already left the salon; I hurried after her and overtook her in the reception room, and, seizing her around the waist, said:
"When shall I see you again?"
"Dame! I don't know; whenever you say."
"Will you dine with me to-morrow?"
"Dine with you? Yes, I'd like to."
"Will you be on Passage Vendôme at five o'clock?"