But winter had given place to spring, fine weather had returned, and the ex-beau strolled about in search of acquaintances more persistently than ever.
One morning, near the Château d'Eau, he saw two girls, apparently waiting for an omnibus; he walked toward them, saying to himself:
"Par la sambleu! I believe those are my pretty feather-makers. Yes, they certainly are Mesdemoiselles Laurette and Lucie."
Hearing their names, the young women turned and looked at the stranger, who bowed low to them. Suddenly Laurette, the dark one, cried:
"Ah! I recognize monsieur now; he's the one who talked with us at Porte Saint-Martin last summer."
"Yes, mesdemoiselles; the same. Are you going up to Belleville again?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"And to the restaurant in Parc Saint-Fargeau?"
"No, monsieur; but we have a friend who lives in the village of L'Avenir."
"And where might the village of L'Avenir be, if you please?"