"Oh, yes; and he makes me laugh every time I see him, for he will give me lessons in music, and I believe at the present time I know much more about it than he does. You will never let me leave my room."
"Blanche, isn't it apparent to you that that is not convenient?"
"But when you are alone I should like much better to keep you company and chat to you, than to listen to Marguerite's stories, which often make me very timorous and prevent me from going to sleep."
"You know that I'm not very chatty; after a day's work I'm tired and I like to rest."
"And Marguerite said that you didn't go to bed until very late, that you kept the light burning a long time, and that she doesn't know if you sleep one hour every night."
The old servant coughed, but unsuccessfully, to make Blanche stop talking; but the latter, not thinking that she had done anything wrong in repeating all that, paid no attention to her and continued to speak. Marguerite, in order to avoid her master's look, wiped and dusted with new ardor; but this time the voice of the barber made itself heard, and it was she whom he addressed.
"Marguerite, I said to you when you came into my house that I detested curious, indiscreet people,—servants who spy on their master. Do you remember it?"
"Yes, yes, monsieur," said the old servant, continuing to rub the top of the table.
"How do you know, then, whether I sleep late, whether I keep the light burning a long time, whether I am awake at night?—you who should be in your room at nine o'clock every evening and go to bed immediately."
"Monsieur, I beg your pardon; but at times, when the wind blows or the thunder growls, it's impossible for me to sleep; then, monsieur, I get up to pray to my patron saint, or cross my shovel and tongs, or to place a branch of boxwood on my bed. You know boxwood conjures the storm; and if they had taken some of it formerly to the Arsenal, on the Billi Tower, it would not have been entirely destroyed by lightning in the year 1537 or '38—I don't know which exactly."