Virginie checked herself; she realized that she had made a mistake. Madame Saint-Edmond cast a contemptuous glance at her and left the room, saying to Bertrand:
“All that I ask you, monsieur, is to be kind enough to let me know when Monsieur Dalville returns.”
“I shall not fail, madame,” replied the corporal, escorting the neighbor to the door. In the reception room she said to him:
“I don’t know who this hussy is that I found installed in Monsieur Dalville’s apartment; but she acts like a fishwoman, and her manner is so insolent that I wouldn’t have her for my cook.”
When the neighbor had gone, Virginie concluded to resume her hat and shawl.
“Well,” she muttered, “I may as well go, as that good-for-nothing isn’t coming home. It’s a nuisance, though, for I really needed to see him. I wanted to ask him—That idiot of a landlord is always in my rooms! Oh! how he tires me! He’s furious because he tried to make love to me and I wouldn’t listen to him. Think of it—a little seducer of fifty-five! What do you suppose he did, Bertrand, in the hot weather? He came to see me in the morning in his dressing gown; but one day, when the wind blew, I saw that my gentleman was dressed underneath like—like a Scotchman!—‘Come, come,’ said I to myself, ‘this is too free and easy! If he comes here that way for the purpose of seducing me, just a minute!’—He wouldn’t go away, so I called the concierge and had the landlord put out of my room. Since then, he’s as ugly as sin. Well, I’ll come back very soon.—Ah! I know where I’ll go. Yes, that fat Englishman, who was willing to set me up in business, on condition that—Good! I’ll go and tell him that I’ve found a linen-draper’s shop. After all, I am tired of living this way; I mean to have a shop. I wouldn’t look so bad behind a counter, would I, Bertrand?—I say, the neighbor was pretty well stirred up, wasn’t she? She went before I did; in fact, she’d have had to carry me to make me go first, because when I take a thing into my head, I don’t—Adieu, my little Bertrand.”
Mademoiselle Virginie slipped through the door and downstairs, humming.
“Gad!” said Bertrand to himself as he looked after her, “if my lieutenant had come home, I don’t quite know how things would have turned out. This one’s a regular demon, and the other, with her die-away voice, was beginning to make eyes like pistol shots, too! Never mind, I got out of it pretty well; at all events nobody fainted this time, and that’s what I am always afraid of. Thunder and guns! I’d rather have ten raw recruits to lick into shape than one fainting woman to bring to. In fact, there are some of ‘em that are quite obstinate about it.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Monsieur Bertrand,” said little Tony, following the ex-corporal into the salon.
“Ah! to be sure, my boy; I forgot all about it. He must have money, always money! Well, come with me, and we’ll go to the strong-box. Sacrebleu! it makes me feel bad to keep taking out and never putting back. When I tell monsieur so, he says: ‘Go to my notary.’—That’s all right; I know that the notary always gives me money; but by giving and giving—However, the lieutenant’s the master, and I must obey.—How much does he want, Tony?”