"Messieurs, buy a bouquet of me, be the first to buy; you'll bring me luck."
"Aha! it's Bastringuette," said Albert, smiling at the girl, whose pale, thin face, eyes circled with black, and hoarse voice, suggested a very fatiguing profession.
"Come, buy of me; you always have some lady to give flowers to! you're a good customer!"
"You strike me at a bad time, my poor girl; my love affairs are too prosperous at this moment, I don't need to be gallant."
"I say, Bastringuette, what sort of business are you doing, that you have those black rings round your eyes, and look so fagged out?" said Monsieur Célestin, taking the flower girl by the chin. She had large brown eyes surmounted by heavy eyebrows, a large but well-shaped mouth, and would still have been a seductive person had she but a little fresher color and a less brazen expression.
"I do what I want! What odds is it to you who never buy anything of me?"
"Because I don't need to give bouquets to gain my ends, it is fair to suppose."
"Come, take away your paws! I don't wear anything false, I don't need to be felt of!—And you, my little love, won't you buy something of me? With such a face and style, you ought to have mistresses on every street, and even on the boulevards!"
This complimentary speech was addressed to Tobie Pigeonnier; he seemed to be exceedingly flattered by it, and, to manifest his satisfaction, rested his nose on each bunch of violets on her tray in turn, saying:
"She's very amusing, very clever, this flower girl! She has a pair of eyes—what pistols! how she fires 'em at you point-blank!"