“I? nothing; do what you choose; but, if you really have a chance to marry, that would be much better than going on the stage.”
“Bless my soul! you talk like my aunt. But it’s true that I could never be an actress; if I went on the stage and saw all those faces looking at me, I know that I should laugh like a lunatic. But I say, are we going to stand on this same spot till to-morrow? People will take us for spies. Where are you going?”
“I am going to Monsieur Destival’s on a matter of business.”
“He is that tall, lanky, ugly creature I’ve seen you with sometimes in a carriage?”
“It is quite possible.”
“Ah! what a funny face he has! That man reminds me of one of Séraphin’s marionettes—you know, the one that sings tire lon pha in Le Pont Cassé.”
“You will always be the same, won’t you?”
“Why, a body must laugh once in a while. Look you, Auguste, you can go to your Monsieur Destival’s another day; to-day I don’t propose to leave you.”
“But, really, I have some business.”
“So much the worse! It makes you very unhappy to think of passing a day with me, don’t it?”