“Oh, yes, yes!”
“Sapristi!” said Daréna, turning to his companion, “she strikes me as being stupider than a flock of geese! However, it makes no difference; Love is blind, and he is entitled to be deaf too.—Let’s have a drink! Another bowl, waiter.”
“But—but——”
“Be quiet, Comte de Globeski! you are at liberty not to drink any more, but you will still have the privilege of paying.”
The second bowl was brought; the young Alsatian’s color became more brilliant than ever; even her eyes began to show some life and Daréna exclaimed:
“Fichtre! if only Chérubin could see her now! What a conflagration she would kindle! Comte de Globeski, see to it that Chichette has such eyes to-morrow evening; make her a little tipsy.”
“Yes, with brandy!” muttered Poterne, blowing his nose.
“Attention! as it is easier to become acquainted at the theatre than anywhere else, the Comte de Globeski will take his wife to the theatre to-morrow evening—to the Cirque; that is the favorite theatre of foreigners.”
“Very good,” said Poterne, “we will go to the Cirque; we will sit in the second amphitheatre.”
“And why not in paradise, at once? Hum! you make me blush for you, Globeski! You will take seats in the first balcony—in a box.”