“Yes, yes!” cried Chérubin; “instead of losing your temper, tell me what you do with your seven mistresses?”
“Parbleu! what you do with yours, I presume.”
“I? Why, I haven’t——” A glance from Daréna checked Chérubin, and he continued: “I don’t do anything at all with mine.”
“In that case they must play some amusing tricks on you.”
“I,” said Oscar, “have a fascinating little grisette just now; I give her a cap every week and a dress every month, and she is perfectly satisfied.”
“Among my seven mistresses,” said Mousseraud, “there is an Englishwoman who costs me a lot of money; but she is an admirable creature!”
“What a braggart he is with his seven mistresses! He reminds me of Blue Beard. Take them all out walking some day—you’ll look like a boarding-school master.”
“I give women nothing but my heart now,” said Daréna; “and they are much more fond of me since I put them on that diet.”
“And you, Chérubin, do you squander money on your charmers?”
“I—I don’t know—that depends,” stammered Chérubin, playing with his knife.