“No, I don’t know him.”
“True, this isn’t the quarter where I can expect to find him; I must go to Boulevard des Italiens, to the Chaussée d’Antin; that’s a pity, for it’s a long way from you.”
“Do you mean that you don’t expect to do errands except in the neighborhood of the Château d’Eau?”
“Why! of course I know that that isn’t possible; but I hate so to go away from you.”
“Really, Georget, you make me want to laugh; you are not old enough yet to be in love, it isn’t so very long since I used to see you playing marbles with urchins of your age!”
“Oh! upon my word! it’s a long, long time since I stopped playing marbles; why, that’s a game for children.”
“Oh! mon Dieu! don’t defend yourself so eagerly; there’s no harm in it. And let me tell you, Georget, you would do better to play now than to pass your time sighing and looking up at the sky, and always having a dismal expression; you are better looking when you laugh.”
“Do you think so, mamzelle? Well! it isn’t my fault, it isn’t by preference that I am dismal sometimes; but you always treat me like a child, and that annoys me. However, I am seventeen and a half, and I believe that I am almost as old as you.”
“No, I am more than eighteen; and at that age, a girl is much older than a boy and ought to have more common sense.”
“Oh! that’s all nonsense! on the contrary, there are men of seventeen who are already soldiers, and who have been in the army. Why, there’s a little drummer, who was lately stationed at the barracks in Faubourg du Temple, who was not more than eighteen years old, and he had been to Africa, where he passed three years, and was in battles with the Arabs.”