"Aren't you most through chattering there? Well! those people are making themselves at home! They make assignations in my passageway! They keep other folks out, but what do they care! If I didn't keep an eye on 'em, God knows what they'd be up to on my premises! God! what a place this world is getting to be!"
Another one will say nothing, but begin to sweep pools of water against the legs of the couple who have stopped in her doorway. Or else she will close the door of the passage, saying:
"Who do you want to see? You can't stand there, I tell you!"
But all these petty annoyances slide lightly over the good nature of a pair of lovers. If they are obliged to go away, they stop again a little farther on; or they defy the sweeping, the unkind remarks, the silly jests, and the inquisitive glances of the gossips of the quarter, who, in most cases, act as auxiliaries to the concierges. What do they care what is said, or what happens about them? oftentimes they don't see it. It is so pleasant to love and to tell each other of it, to gaze into the loved one's eyes, to talk in whispers, to understand each other at the slightest hint, to exchange ardent thoughts and warm breaths. When we are enjoying such bliss as that, it engrosses us and leaves us no senses with which to be conscious of anything else. She was quite right, was that lady of the good old time, who, when her knight sought a shelter from the rain, cried:
"You no longer love me! if you did, you would not have noticed that it rains!"
Elina told Paul all that she did, all that she thought, all the plans she formed during the day and sometimes during the night; for one does not always sleep at night, especially if one is very much in love.
The young messenger received these sweet confidences with the deepest interest, for he was always included in Elina's projects. The little dressmaker had not a thought or hope which did not relate to Paul; and she told her lover so with an artless sincerity which enchanted him. But, for all that, he was often very depressed, and that grieved the young girl, who said to him one morning:
"Aren't you glad that I tell you all my thoughts? don't you approve of my plans for the future? Instead of being gratified that I think of you all the time, it seems to sadden you and make you unhappy; if that's how it is, monsieur, I won't tell you anything more!"
"Oh! do not think that, mademoiselle," Paul replied, as he took Elina's hand. "I listen to you with the greatest pleasure; I am too happy to hear what you say, to know that I am always in your thoughts. But, do what I will—I think——"
"What, pray?"