Beauvinet opened the hall door and put his head in, saying:
"The gentleman who just went out said that monsieur had a bad attack and needed attention; so I came——"
"Clear out and leave me in peace!" retorted Roncherolle, striking the floor angrily with his cane.
The young man did not wait for that invitation to be repeated; he disappeared like a stage shadow-figure, and slammed the door behind his back.
"But he will come again in a fortnight," reflected the invalid after a moment. "He is a man of his word, he won't fail to come; and if, as I must hope, I am in condition to walk, I shall have to meet him.—Fight with him! well, if he is obstinate about it, I will be equally obstinate.—Who is coming to disturb me now, ten thousand devils?"
"Why, it's me," said Chicotin, entering the room; "I did your errand, bourgeois, and I did it well, I flatter myself; in the first place, I bought a superb bouquet; oh! it was A No. 1; it was worth four francs rather than three. I didn't buy it of Mamzelle Violette, just to make her mad; I don't mean to buy anything more of her. But you don't care anything about that.—I went to Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges, and I found Madame la Baronne de Grangeville, not in the twenties, but at 19, but that don't make any difference. They let me in, and I found the lady sitting in a great machine. To cut it short, when I said to her: 'Madame, it is Monsieur de Roncherolle who sends you this bouquet, with all sorts of messages;' if you had seen what a jump that lady gave on her—her divan, just like a carp in the frying pan; then she said: 'Monsieur de Roncherolle! what, is he in Paris? Tell him to come and see me right away, as soon as possible; I shall expect him impatiently.'—I answered: 'Madame, certainly, to be sure—that's what he means to do; he will come as soon as he can stand on his pins'—oh, no! I didn't say pins, I said legs; and then I bowed and left, and she didn't give me anything."
"Well, keep the rest of the money I gave you."
"Thanks, bourgeois, thanks; and did your friend from Nogent come to see you?"
"Yes, yes, he came, my friend. Do you know, Chicotin, that you're a wretched chatterbox, and that I ought to pull your ears for giving anyone my address without finding out whether I wanted you to?"
"Mon Dieu! did I make a fool of myself? Isn't your friend your friend any longer?"