“It’s strange that he hasn’t been to see us for a fortnight.”
“Well! perhaps it’s because he agrees with the rest—that you have enough company without him!”
“What’s that? enough company? I don’t understand. What do you mean by that, Père Ledrux?”
“I—nothing at all; in the first place, you understand it don’t make any difference to me, it ain’t any of my business; you can have whole regiments come to see you for all me; you’re your own mistresses, and I ain’t the one to find fault!—But you know, there’s some folks who do nothing but meddle with what don’t concern ‘em, and talk—why, just for the sake of talking!”
“Do you understand one word of all that he says, Agathe?”
“Not very well; but it seems that people think that we receive a great deal of company. Isn’t that what they say, Père Ledrux?”
“Yes, they say that you receive a good many men; that you’ve had some come from Paris, without counting those from this part of the country, who go to walk with you in the evening.—Tutu—turlututu.”
“You hear, Agathe; what do you think of that?”
“Why, I think that it’s an outrage, and that people in the country are even more unkind than they are in large cities.—Poucette, is it true that many men come here?”
“Oh! my word, mamzelle, I haven’t ever seen anybody come but our neighbor Monsieur Edmond, and then two or three times his friend, Monsieur Freluchon, who’s so full of mischief.—Oh! what a scamp that little man is!”