"Very good. Rosa's one of your companions at the theatre, isn't she? a brunette with yellow eyes, and complexion to match?"
"Yes, but never mind about her; you promised me a salmi of partridges if you found your man with the secret—you see—I didn't say, your man from Pontoise."
"Hush! imprudent girl! I was coming to the salmi in a minute, when I spoke about Rosa. Our feast will take place at her room—day after to-morrow, at noon, to give her time to tell Putiphar to come there that day about one; I shall be there, you understand, and I shall have told you and Rosa what to say to her so that my plan may succeed."
"Are you going to play a joke on someone?"
"To be sure."
"Never fear, then! we'll tell her all the foolish stuff you want."
"I have never doubted it. It's understood, then—day after to-morrow, at twelve o'clock, at Rosa's.—Does she still live on Rue de Lancry?"
"Yes."
"I promise you a breakfast of swallows' nests, like the Chinese."
"No, no, I don't want that! The idea of eating birds' nests! what a horror!"