“Now, Nicette, let us talk seriously; but, no, let us breakfast first of all; we can talk quite as well at table. You must feel the need of something to eat, do you not?”
“Yes, monsieur, I should like some breakfast right well.”
“I always keep something on hand for unexpected guests.”
“Tell me where everything is, monsieur, and I’ll set the table.”
“On the sideboard yonder, and in the drawers.”
“All right, all right!”
She ran to fetch what we required. In two minutes the table was set. I admired Nicette’s grace and activity; a little maid-servant like that, I thought, would suit me infinitely better than my concierge, Madame Dupont, who took care of my rooms. But, apropos of Madame Dupont, suppose she should appear? We had time enough, however; for it was only seven o’clock, and the concierge, knowing that I was a little inclined to be lazy, never came up before eight. So that we could breakfast at our ease.
“Let us talk a little, Nicette. I am interested in your future; you cannot doubt that.”
“You have proved it, monsieur.”
“What are you going to do when you leave me?”