"And his daughter Juliette—isn't she charming?"
"I don't know her; I have never seen her."
"Her stepmother is determined to marry her. As she is a good deal of a flirt, I think that she's jealous of her stepdaughter's beauty; she is looking everywhere for a husband for her; I heard that she had gone so far as to apply to a second-hand clothes woman, who arranges marriages."
"I say! I say! What's that! Do second-hand clothes women make matches?"
"A great many, my dear Dodichet, a great many! The business pays well, as you can imagine; they stipulate that they are to furnish the presents that the groom always gives the bride. If the groom has no money to pay for them, they offer to advance it, being certain of getting their pay out of the bride's dowry."
"Do you know, that's a shrewd game! I have a mind to go into the matchmaking business myself. Do you know the name of this hymeneal procuress?"
"Madame Putiphar."
"The devil! the name is promising. I must see her and tell her to find me a millionairess, and I'll share the dowry with her.—All the same, he's a miserable old crow, is your Monsieur Miroton[P]—Mirotaine. He must smell of onions. I really must play some good practical joke on him."
"I beg you, Dodichet, do nothing of the sort; you would simply get Juliette into trouble, and that wouldn't help my business any."
"Your business! Do you really flatter yourself, Lucien, that your pins will enable you to marry the young woman?"