“I pointed him out to you, Georget, because that little fellow, who can hardly be any older than you, a year at most, has been prowling about here all the time for several days; he constantly bargains for flowers with me, and then he too has told me that he adores me, and has suggested carrying me off and taking me to Saint-Germain or to Versailles, or even farther, declaring that he would make me happy.”
“What! that little wretch has told you all that?”
“Yes, that little fellow has told me all those foolish things; and I laughed in his face—that was the best thing for me to do. Since then, he has ceased to speak to me, but he comes here just as often and hurls savage glances at me—look, as he is doing now.”
“Ah! if he treats you discourteously, I’ll go and say a word to him.”
“No, Georget, he’s not discourteous, for he doesn’t speak; we can’t prevent his walking here; and besides, I am always tempted to laugh when I look at him, remembering that one day Chicotin knocked him down in such a way that he tore both knees of his trousers.”
“Oh! how I would have liked to see that! There he goes away; he has made up his mind it’s no use, and he has done well.”
“Well, Georget, if I had listened to what that young man said, do you think that I should have done right?”
“Oh, no! of course not!”
“So then you see that I should be no more reasonable if I should listen to you.”
“Oh! what a difference, Violette! You compare my love with that of that little popinjay who hardly knows you! Whereas I have seen you and loved you for three years! So I am nothing more to you than the first comer who pays you compliments as he buys your bouquets! Ah! it isn’t right to treat me so. You wouldn’t act like this if you knew——”