"Oho! it is Monsieur le Chevalier Passedix!" replied Ambroisine, as the long, lean gentleman planted himself in front of her. "Have you also come to see the Fire of Saint-Jean?"
"Ah! little do I care for these celebrations. The fire that burns in the depths of my heart would eclipse all possible Saint-Jeans. Do not be alarmed, cruel girl! it is no longer to you that those words are addressed. You spurned me, and I have carried elsewhere my sighs and my prayers!"
"Oh! I know it, monsieur le chevalier, and I congratulate you."
"You know it? Ah, yes! I remember; you even know for whom I sigh. You know Miretta?"
"Do I know her! Oh! she is my friend, too. I am very fond of her! She has shown such gratitude to me for the trivial service I rendered! She comes to see me now and then."
"Pardieu! I know it. The little one doesn't take a step without my knowledge, without having me at her heels!"
"She told me so, monsieur le chevalier, and I warn you that she dislikes it extremely. She has said to me several times: 'If that tall, thin, yellow man continues to follow me as soon as I set foot in the street, I shall be obliged to tell him that he is wasting his time and his steps.'"
"Ha! ha! ha! First of all, I will wager that Miretta did not say: 'that tall, thin, yellow man'; those are your own words, cruel tongue! Oh! I know women! They complain when we follow them; but they would be sorely disappointed if we did not follow them!"
"Well! try to disappoint Miretta; that will gratify her."
"I hoped to meet her here.—Bigre! I had not noticed; you have a most charming young lady on your arm!"