"Mon Dieu! how you do chatter to-day, mesdemoiselles! If this nonsense goes on, we shan't be able to deliver our orders."
"Talking don't prevent sewing, mademoiselle."
"We haven't any reason to be dismal," said the girl with the affected manners.—"By the way, mesdemoiselles, I saw our old comrade Léonie yesterday. She had the arm of a man who didn't have any style at all—and who was dressed like a messenger!"
"Ah! some women have such vile taste!"
"They stoop so low!"
"There are some who wouldn't blush to love a bootblack."
"A messenger and a bootblack are the same thing."
"Do you think so, Euphémie?"
"To be sure; when you want to have your shoes polished, you go up to a messenger and put your foot on his crochets, and he's obliged to polish 'em right away."
"Indeed! but what if he don't have any polish?"