"Dear Elina!"
"Oh! wait—I remember now. First of all, there's a young man—one of those who came and laughed at us, you remember, when we were in the loft."
"Yes, indeed, I remember; but which one?"
"He's tall, but not handsome, and he has a bold, impertinent manner."
"I see which you mean; it must be Monsieur Célestin."
"Well, I noticed several times that he followed me when I came out of Madame Dumanchon's at night, to go home; he walked very close to me, and spoke to me, said a lot of foolish things, I don't know what, for I didn't listen, I never once answered him, and I walked so fast, to avoid hearing him, that I assure you he had to run to keep up with me.—'If Monsieur Paul was here with me,' I said to myself, 'he wouldn't dare to follow me, and I shouldn't be afraid of this horrid man.'"
"Poor Elina! did that fellow dare to insult you?"
"I don't know whether he did or not, for I didn't listen to him. Once he tried to take my arm and stop me, but I released myself so quickly, and pushed him away so hard, that he stood as if he was dazed, in the middle of the street. Well, he didn't follow me any more, and I was very glad; but this morning——"
"This morning?"
"One of your comrades—not Sans-Cravate, but the other one——"