“I couldn’t have made a mistake, for I know her perfectly well, and she passed close to me.”
“It wasn’t her, I say.”
“Ah! this is too much! What if I should tell her so when she returns, in your presence—then would you believe me, young messenger?”
“You would dare to tell her that—her?”
“Why should I hesitate, as it’s the truth?”
Georget seemed completely upset, he was pale and agitated, and did not know what to think.
“Come, come, my poor boy,” said Chambourdin, “I see that you too are daft over this flower girl, who is very fascinating, it seems; but after all, perhaps it’s a great service that my young friend does you, by opening your eyes with respect to this girl. You credit her with all the virtues, because you are in love with her; that is easily understood, you are so young! but that is a common thing; oh! these women! they are very fragile! When five years more have passed over your head, I should like to hear what you say about them.”
Georget said nothing more, but Astianax exclaimed:
“The flower girl has returned to her place, and I am going to talk with her. Monsieur Chambourdin, come in that direction, as if by accident, and bring this fellow who doesn’t choose to believe me; in a moment you will know if I have said anything other than the truth.”
“I have no objection,” said Chambourdin; “indeed I ask nothing better than to approach the flower girl; she is enchanting, and I believe that I am falling in love with her too!”