The girl stopped. We were then near Porte Saint-Denis. She hesitated a moment, then replied:
"Well! send me some tickets; I'll accept them; but don't send them to my house; that'll never do, because I live with my aunts. I have a lot of aunts, and I am not free."
She smiled so comically as she said this, that I saw a double row of lovely teeth. I ventured to take her hand; that was going ahead rather fast, but, for some unknown reason, although I had not been talking with her five minutes, I felt as if I knew her well. She let me hold and press her hand, which was plump and soft; it did not seem to vex her in the least.
"Where shall I send the tickets?"
"To my employer's."
"What is your trade?"
"I mend shawls and fringes. I'm a very good hand at it, I promise you!"
"I don't doubt it, mademoiselle."
"Just now I'm doing an errand for my employer; she always sends me on errands, I don't know why; she says that the dealers aren't so strict with me! It's a bore sometimes to go out so often; but sometimes it's good fun, too."
"Will you tell me your name?"