“It thertainly wouldn’t cotht much to live here.”
“But if all the men are as agreeable as neighbor Mauflard, they must be a lively set of fellows.”
Night came, and the regular party-goers, who had arranged to meet at Mère Fourcy’s on that evening, began to arrive. One old woman brought her spinning-wheel, another her knitting; many brought nothing, because they were to tell stories, which are of no small importance at a village party. The men brought bottles and pitchers, and every one was provided with his own supper.
Virginie and Cézarine, seated in a corner of the main room, where it was not very light, despite the lamp, scrutinized the villagers and made comments which luckily they did not hear.
“Oh! what funny creatures!” said Virginie. “Don’t they look countrified! I’d like to show them stars on the ceiling!”
“Oh! thethe village folkth are more knowing than they look.”
“I’ll bet that I play a trick on ‘em and fool ‘em all.”
“Virginie, you mutht behave yourthelf, you know.”
“That’s all right, Semiramis, I know how to behave.”
“Look at that tall young fellow over there—he’th a handthome man. He hath Théodore’th legth.”