"The boy was going to leave the bundle here, but Monsieur Freluchon had to go upstairs to get some money, so he took the bundle up, saying: 'Chamoureau would rather dress in my room than in yours.'"
"Very good; then my clothes are upstairs. Let's go and look for them; if Freluchon isn't there, you must have his key."
"That's just what I haven't got; sometimes he leaves it with me, but he generally takes it with him; and he didn't leave it last night."
"By Jove! this is too much! my clothes are in his room, he knows it, he has his key in his pocket, and he doesn't come home to sleep! What is going to become of me in my Spanish costume? It's an outrage to have to go home dressed like this!"
"Monsieur can take a cab."
"I know that well enough; it wasn't worth while to send the other one away. But I've got to get out of the cab; and I live on Carré Saint-Martin, where there are always lots of people passing. If my house had a porte cochère, I would have the cab drive under it; but no—it's a house-door; and my concierge and all the neighbors will see me come home in this state! Sapristi! this is an infernal trick for Freluchon to play on me.—But I have an idea. Concierge, suppose you lend me some of your clothes?"
"Oh! they wouldn't fit, monsieur; I am short and thin, and monsieur is tall and stout."
"That's so; I'm a fine man, and you are not. Well, I must swallow the absinthe. Concierge, be kind enough to step out and find me a cab."
"But I am all alone, you see, monsieur; my wife has gone out to work and I can't leave my post."
"I will look out for your post—never fear."