"I can't refuse," replied the messenger, "for I didn't bring anybody with me but the driver, and he has to stay with his horse; I counted on your help, especially as I can give you a good pourboire."
"I have been well paid already," said the concierge. "That gentleman is very generous, and I'm sorry that he's going to leave me, for I lose a handsome profit. And then, the little woman hasn't got any maid as yet, and my wife's been doing her housework. She don't know anything about Paris, for she's never been here before; and my wife, who knows Paris like a cab horse, would have shown her about."
"Is she pretty?"
"Very pretty, and something innocent and childlike about her. It's easy to see that she comes from a long way off."
"Oh! Monsieur Albert has good taste; but let's go upstairs and get to work."
The concierge took Sans-Cravate to a small apartment furnished with no less coquetry than refinement; all the furniture was modern, and in the best taste; nothing had been forgotten that could add to the charm of the retreat; the hand of a rich and generous lover was visible in every detail.
"Fichtre! but Monsieur Albert does things in good shape!" said Sans-Cravate, after an admiring glance at the furniture; "but we must be careful not to break or injure anything. I'll take the responsibility."
The messenger set to work with an activity and skill which aroused the concierge's admiration: in two hours, everything had been taken downstairs and carefully packed on the wagon; and Sans-Cravate, having given the concierge a pourboire, started for Rue Grange-aux-Belles.
He soon reached the address indicated, and found the concierge as courteous and zealous as he of Rue de Grenelle, because Albert had employed the same means to win his favor. To set the human machine in motion, one need not cudgel his brains for long; it is enough to grease the joints.
"Do you want to give me a lift with the biggest pieces?" asked the messenger; "my orders are to give you a good pourboire."