“No, monsieur, I am never bored anywhere, myself; besides, the wine is good here. By the way, what day of the month is it?”
“The seventeenth.”
“The deuce! only the seventeenth! this month is very long!”
I guessed why he asked me the question, and I said to him:
“As you consider the wine good here, as I am enjoying myself, and as it is fair that you should do the same, act as if it were the end of the month.”
“Oh, no! a bargain is sacred, monsieur. Since I have been with you, I have learned to respect myself; and if I do get drunk once a month still, it is because I should be sick if I should stop drinking entirely. But never mind; if the wine is good here, the women are terribly inquisitive! prout!”
“The women are inquisitive? How do you know that?”
“Because these last few days they have done nothing but hang round me to try to make me talk.”
“Who, pray?”
“At first it was the landlady and the servants in the inn; but when they found that that didn’t work, there was a good-looking young woman who came to me herself, as if by accident.”