"My mistress only receives people she knows, monsieur; and as she certainly doesn't know you, she won't receive you."
"You're crazy, my girl! You stand there chattering like a magpie and you don't know what you're saying. Your mistress knows me and knows me well, too, I flatter myself; consequently she will receive me; and I don't advise her to refuse to see me, for then there'd be a row at papa's!"
As he spoke, the man pushed the lady's maid before him little by little; and she, being afraid of him, had allowed him to reach the middle of the reception room. There he stopped and glanced about, saying:
"Bigre! it's rather neat here! it's bang up! They didn't deceive me when they said there was fat times at Madame Sainte-Suzanne's. So much the better! this suits me! I love luxury and style, I do!"
"One would hardly think so to look at you," said the maid.
"That proves, my beauty, that you mustn't judge by appearances.—Just go and tell your mistress that I want to talk with her a bit; and to make sure that she won't refuse to see me, you may tell her it's Croque who has looked in on her to bid her good-day as he passed."
"What name did you say, monsieur?"
"I said Croque."
"Is that your name?"
"It seems to be!"