"Oh! yes, bourgeois; she ain't hard up, she sells all she wants to; and then, she has money put by."
"So much the better; who is taking care of her?"
"Your concierge, Mère Lamort."
"I don't know that one can have much confidence in her as a doctor. I will go myself to see this girl, for what you have told me has aroused my interest in her."
"I am sorry, bourgeois, but that can't be."
"What is it that can't be?"
"You can't go to see Mamzelle Violette, because she forbids it."
"How can she have forbidden it? I have never been there."
"Excuse me, but this is how it is: you see, when I was talking with her this morning, I took the liberty to mention you; I told her that she had a very pleasant neighbor."
"Ah! you say such things about me, do you?"