Tobie selected a five-sou cigar, and had it carefully wrapped in paper, to the amazement of the dealer, because a man who buys one cigar ordinarily begins by lighting it. At last, armed with his cigar, which he placed in his pocket, he returned to Madame Plays's house.
"Now I am all right," he said to himself; "I have all I require, I have my token of victory. Albert almost always has a cigar in his mouth, and I'll say that I found this one in his pocket and took it. What a bright idea that was of mine! O suggestive carrot! how glad I am that I happened to see you!"
Tobie entered the house, stalked by the concierge, calling to him, with a superb air: "Madame Plays!" ascended the little staircase, rang, and said in a cajoling tone to the maid who opened the door:
"Be good enough to announce me to madame; she will receive me at once."
"Tobie. I am Tobie. Just say to your enchanting mistress: 'Madame, it is Tobie,' and she will understand."
The maid turned on her heel, muttering:
"Tobie! Tobie! that's a funny name. Seems to me, madame used to have a little dog of that name."
Madame Plays was before her mirror, trying a new way of arranging her hair on top of her head, which was supposed to make her look like a Spartan woman. Madame Plays was much inclined toward Greek styles; and ever since she had heard that the women of Sparta used to dance a dance called Bibasis, which consisted principally in kicking themselves behind with their heels, she had passed part of the day practising that dance.
"If there are idiots who say that it's nothing more than the cancan," she would say to herself, "I'll just answer: 'You are donkeys; it's the Bibasis, an old dance of the Greeks revived.'"