He was musing upon this subject on the day following his visit to Madame Baldimer, as he sauntered along the Boulevard des Italiens, as usual, with a cigar in his mouth, when he spied his friend Célestin, who at once came to meet him and held out his hand.
"Good-morning! how are you?"
"Very well."
"And the love affairs?"
"Oh! not in bad shape."
"I'll bet that you have seen Madame Baldimer again."
"You would not lose. I saw her at her house yesterday; she had given me a rendezvous. My affair is progressing, and on her return from the country, where she has gone for a few days, I hope that your friend will have nothing more to wish for."
"Good! I congratulate you."
There was a touch of irony in Monsieur Célestin's felicitations of his friend. Albert paid little attention to it, because he was accustomed to Célestin's manner, which always suggested that he was laughing at the person to whom he was speaking. That is a very clever way of concealing one's lack of merit—to pose as a scoffer or a blagueur, which are much the same thing.
"I am very glad to see you; perhaps you can help me to find the person I want to see."