“That boy’s a sly little rascal; he’ll never tell me anything, whereas you, Bertrand, you do at least talk; to be sure, I know that you don’t tell me everything. After all, you’re right; there are some things I ought not to know, they’d make me too unhappy. Meanwhile, I’ll have my breakfast.”
Mademoiselle Virginie took her place before the breakfast, and, while repeating from time to time that she was still sick, speedily caused the cold fowl to disappear, and made a vigorous assault on the pie and the sausage, washing them down with claret, in which she did not deem it necessary to put water.
But, while she was eating, Virginie glanced at a clock in front of her and cried:
“The rascal! Why doesn’t he come home? You must admit, Bertrand, that people don’t stay at a ball till nine o’clock in the morning. I know myself that bourgeois balls always end by five; my aunt used to give one sometimes. Poor aunt! I shall have to make up with her now!—I say, this pie isn’t half bad.—You see, Bertrand, my aunt’s a woman of your sort.”
“I understand—a tall woman, five feet six inches, like me, eh?”
“No, no! what a donkey you are with your six inches! Still, it would be rather nice[C] if my aunt had six of ‘em. When I say of your sort, I mean a fine woman, a respectable woman. Oh! she preaches to me, I tell you, she does! She used to say such touching things to me that I wept like a Magdalen while I was listening; but once outside—prrr!—I forgot all about it.—A body could eat a two pound loaf with this devilish sausage!—That wretched Auguste! Ah! he shall pay me for this. In the first place, I don’t propose to go till he comes back, if I have to stay here till to-morrow. It don’t make any difference to me, I’m my own mistress.”
[C] The joke consists in the fact that the same word—pouce—means “inch” and “thumb.”
At that moment the bell rang softly.
“Ah! there he is!” cried Virginie; “don’t tell him I’m here, Bertrand, do you hear? I want to surprise him. Shut the door of the salon.”
“Very well, mademoiselle; but I have an idea that it isn’t monsieur; I didn’t recognize his ring.”