"How polite my lover is to-day!"
"To which aunt shall I take you this evening, mademoiselle?"
"Faubourg Saint-Denis, as usual."
"By the way, you haven't told me yet where you were perching yesterday, when I had the kindness—I might well say, the folly—to look for you at all your aunts' lodgings."
"Do you want to make me unhappy?"
"Answer me!"
"I told you that I was with a friend."
"Oh, yes! at the sponge dealer's, perhaps?"
"What an outrage! Instead of saying such things, you would do well to kiss me. It seems that we don't get beyond compliments to-day!"
In truth, she was right; I had rebuked her enough all day; the least I could do was to compensate her at that moment.