"They ain't in your somno either, monsieur."
"You are at my service, monsieur!" rejoined the professor, puffing like an ox; "but I, monsieur, I am not at your service! I no longer propose that you shall dispose of my destiny and my future.—Upon my word!—I have come to tell you, monsieur, that I withdraw my confidence from you and that you shall find no wife for me—for me, Aimé-Désiré-Jules Beaubichon; the idea of my taking a wife on the guaranty of a pseudo Spaniard! of a man who so far forgets his manhood as to deck himself in tinsel that gives him the aspect of a mountebank!"
"I do the same, monsieur," said the countryman; "I withdraw my confidence from him; to be sure, I hadn't given it to him, but I withdraw it all the same. I was going to give him my power of attorney. But nay, nay, Lisette! he won't have a chance to throw my money away at balls!"
"He was employed to find me a spouse, monsieur; but where would he go to find one? to Valentino, or the Salle-Barthélemy? For me, who desire good morals and virginity before all things! He would arrange a marriage for me with one of those little women whom all Paris knows, a girl of marble, monsieur; when I say marble, I use a theatrical form of expression—do you understand?"
"Faith, no!"
"I am not surprised."
While these two gentlemen indulged in their recriminations and reflections, far from flattering to the business agent, the latter, finding that his slippers did not come, and being averse to standing on the floor in his stockings, decided to get down on his hands so that he might more easily look under the furniture and find that indispensable portion of his costume. His position, as he crawled around his room on all fours, was ill adapted to restore the confidence of the persons whom the sight of his disguise had so exasperated. Monsieur Beaubichon therefore wrathfully jammed his hat over his eyes, crying:
"Observe, monsieur, observe the results of dissipation! A man who should be as serious as the law itself, is obliged to crawl around his room on all fours, in search of objects which should be at his hand!—I go, and never in my life will I set foot inside this office! Keep your marriageable women, monsieur, or marry them to your clients—this professor of bookkeeping will not endorse them. Good-day!"
"I follow your lead, monsieur; I'll keep my power of attorney and try to find a business agent who won't fling yellow boots in my face. Good-day!"
"Go to the devil! and leave me in peace! for I'm sick of you both!" retorted Chamoureau; and, weary of his unsuccessful search, he sat on the floor in the middle of the room. But at that moment the servant returned with a victorious air, holding the slippers in her hand.