Our widower felt a thrill of pleasure at hearing such compliments addressed to himself. He would gladly have kissed the mask worn by the Norman, to show his satisfaction, but he contented himself with pressing her hand and arm most tenderly, saying:
"What, my charming peasant—do you know me?"
"Do I know you! Why bless my soul! who doesn't know you, O Chamoureau of my heart? It was wholly on your account, to meet you, that I came here."
"Really? But I had no idea myself that I should come. Our party wasn't made up till very late in the evening."
"But I was certain that you would come; my little finger told me."[G]
"Is your little finger such a magician as that?"
"Yes, for it told me that you would be disguised as a Spaniard; that you would have top boots which would cause you much annoyance——"
"By Jove! this is marvelous!"
"That you would make love to a pink domino and a shepherdess; I saw you with them just now."
"It's the truth; I don't deny it."