"Oh! I have lived on Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins more than three years now."
"Look, messieurs! see this coming toward us, with the little lilac hat and the pink dress. I rather like the looks of it. Here's a chance to shoot off your monocle, Tobie; especially as the wind makes the lady's dress cling close to her thighs, and we are going before the wind."
"She isn't pretty," said Célestin, as the person with the lilac hat passed them.
"Gad! Célestin, you shouted that in her ears; I'll bet that she heard you."
"Well, suppose she did? aren't opinions free? I say, Tobie; speaking of Rue Beaubourg, I thought that nobody but Jews lived there."
"That's a fable, you see, as I lived there."
"That's no reason. You may be of that religion yourself."
"I have told you many times that I am a Lutheran, of Polish descent. I don't know why you insist on calling me a Jew."
"Well, suppose you were a Jew," said Albert; "what harm would it do you? Aren't there men of merit, men of genius, in all religions? and in respect to the arts, fortune, and talents, the Jewish nation is one of the most richly endowed at this moment. We are not living in the barbarous times when the people loved of God were so badly treated, when the children of Israel were compelled to wear a distinguishing mark on their clothes and their hats."
"It was a yellow mark," said Célestin, with a sneer.