Auguste saw the young lace-maker, who, after adjusting her cap to her satisfaction, removed her jacket and short skirt, and donned a white chemise; while the young man, his eyes glued upon her little room, exclaimed excitedly:
“Very pretty! very pretty, on my word! I never saw anything better on the first floor! Ah! this apartment of mine is beyond price!”
Her toilet completed, the young woman set out her supper on a small table; she laid two covers.
“The deuce!” muttered Auguste; “the company that she expects consists of but one person; the party will be no larger than those in the private rooms at the Tournebride. But no matter! let us wait and see what happens.”
A young man in a blouse and otter-skin cap arrived and was received with a joyful exclamation, to which he replied by a kiss so heartily bestowed that Dalville fancied that he heard the report; and he scratched his ear, muttering:
“The devil! the devil! shall I keep on looking? Why not? I shall at least know what to expect.”
The supper was on the table; but the gallant in the otter-skin cap had more love than appetite. He continued to snatch kisses, dallying the while with the girl, whom he seemed inclined to lead away from the table rather than toward it.
“The deuce!” said Auguste, “it’s evident that people make love under the eaves no less than on first floors. This fellow in a jacket seems to know as much about it as the most skilful boudoir seducer. The deuce! the deuce!”
And Auguste finally left the window in a pet, exclaiming:
“I don’t need to see any more; these young women who invite their best friends to supper ought to have their curtains so arranged as to reach to the top of the window.”