"Fifine, listen to me, I entreat you!"
"Are you going to cry?"
"To go to the Baron de Marcey’s, I must wear full evening dress."
"Ah! I see what you’re coming at—you want me to put on your curl-papers."
"Curl-papers—I shall be glad if you will, it is true; for you do it to perfection."
"Ah! the lion is quieting down!"
"But there is something else of which I am in urgent need, and that is my black silk stockings, which I lent you the last Sunday that it rained."
"Your silk stockings?"
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"The deuce! but they’re a long way off, if they’re still going!"