"I should be very rich if I had not ruined myself for women."
Julia, who had paid little attention to this last phrase, said to herself,—
"He ought to be rich if he has helped the marquis in all his follies."
"He is not married," resumed Chaudoreille, "although he could now find a good match. His house on the Rue des Bourdonnais is a very pretty property. Perhaps it's because of the little one that he doesn't marry; perhaps he is going to marry her, I shouldn't be surprised."
"What little one," inquired Julia, curiously.
"The young girl whom he has adopted and who is now sixteen years old."
"The barber Touquet has adopted a child?"
"Why, yes, of course he has. Why, if you know him, how is it that you are ignorant of that? That's certainly the best act of his life."
"Touquet has done a good action," said Julia, smiling ironically; "I could not have imagined that, and is this young girl pretty?"
"Hang it! is she pretty? Well, I believe you! She is one—but no," said Chaudoreille, correcting himself as if struck by a sudden remembrance, "she is not handsome at all; on the contrary, she is ugly, one might even say that she is disagreeable."