“Come, my dear Raymond, come; let’s take coffee together.”
“I can’t do it, my friend; I am here for a purpose, you see. I am watching Agathe; I want to speak to her.”
“You can speak to her later; come on with me.”
“No; this seems to me a favorable moment; she doesn’t take her eyes off me.”
The little traitress was, in truth, making the most ridiculous faces at him, for fear he would go away. Monsieur Raymond, who had never known her to look at him like that, and who saw that all the shopgirls had their eyes on him, was beside himself with delight; he swaggered along, leaning on his cane; to no purpose did I pull him by the arm, it was impossible to induce him to lose sight of the milliner’s shop. But he noticed the crowd assembled a few steps away.
“There’s something over yonder; let’s see what it is.”
“Pshaw! it isn’t worth while; an offer of a reward for a lost dog, or an advertisement of some new oil to prevent the hair from falling out or turning white.”
“I tell you, my dear fellow, those oils aren’t to be despised! For my part, I try every one that comes out; I must confess that they often give me a headache, but a man must risk something to retain his youth, you must agree. However, I don’t think that’s what they’re looking at; see how they’re all laughing! It must be something very amusing.”
“Don’t you know that in Paris the merest trifle is enough to collect a hundred people?”
“No matter; I want to see what it is; I like to laugh when I have an opportunity. I’ll come back in a minute and tell you about it.”