"I? not once. What would you have me go there for, now? Madame Dalmont insisted on paying me my fee on the spot, and the transaction is concluded."
"She's a widow, isn't she, Chamoureau?"
"Yes, she's a widow."
"And she hasn't a large fortune?"
"No; she told me herself that her means were small, and that she was going into the country to live as a matter of taste and for economy's sake."
"And Agathe—that lovely girl?"
"Mademoiselle Agathe is an orphan, and has no other friend or protector than the lady with whom she lives. That's all I know about them.—But, pardon me, my friends, it's three o'clock already; allow me to take my leave. I will take my clothes away; I'll wear them to-night; these trousers, anyhow, are not too tight for me."
"What! you are going to carry that bundle?"
"I shall take a cab. Your hand, Freluchon. Now I am yours, in life and in death!—Au revoir, messieurs, until to-morrow."
Chamoureau returned home. The day, although far advanced, seemed mortally long to him. He set about curling his hair, perfuming himself, in short, trying to make himself most seductive.