"I will accept everything! for this invitation proves to me that you are a noble Spaniard.—Come along with us, Laïde!"
They made their way to one of the buffets which were at each end of the foyer.
"What will the ladies take?" inquired Chamoureau. "Gooseberry wine—lemonade—that's the best thing there is to cool you off."
"I prefer punch," said the pink domino.
"So do I," said the shepherdess; "it's much healthier than all those other things, and I can drink two bowls of it without getting tight."
This naïve admission of the shepherdess made Chamoureau shudder. Luckily for him, punch is ordinarily served in glasses in the foyer. Three glasses were placed before the Spaniard and his guests. The domino and the shepherdess tossed off the punch as if it were champagne, although it was scalding hot. The widower had hardly wet his lips when the ladies had emptied their glasses.
"It's hot! terribly hot! I can't swallow it as you do," said Chamoureau; "it would burn my throat!"
"Ah! the poor boy is afraid of burning himself. I say, ain't you a man? But we ain't going to stay on one leg, I suppose, are we?" said the shepherdess.
"What do you mean by that, girl of the fields?"
"Ah! he don't understand! Where are you from, old no nose? Did they bring you up in a closet?"