"Don’t move.—But that isn’t all: Monsieur Fidélio, not satisfied with having a pretty blonde of twenty in his service, was making love to a married woman; and this married woman, it seems——"
"You are pulling my hair!"
"Oh! that, you know, is very bad! That a woman who is free should do what she pleases—that’s all right. But one either is bound or one isn’t—that’s all I know; that is to say, unless the husband’s a tyrant or a miser."
"It’s after nine o’clock, Fifine!"
"What’s the odds? you will have time enough to make conquests.—Now then, the servant noticed that the lady came very often to see Fidélio on business, and that Fidélio, instead of being pleasant with his maid, as he usually was, did nothing but scold her. But one can be a servant and still have lively passions; such things have been known. To revenge herself, the girl goes one fine day to the lady’s husband and offers to make him a witness of a meeting between his wife and her man of business. The husband was frantic; he accepted, sent for a cab, and got in with the little blonde, who was to tell the driver to stop at the proper time. But on the way—and this is the funniest part of it!—the husband began to find the little maid much to his liking and proposed to transfer his passion to her.—‘We are both deceived,’ says he; ‘let’s take our revenge together.’—She didn’t take to that scheme; she resisted and the man persisted. Tired of being urged by him,—he had entirely forgotten his wife,—she told the coachman to stop, opened the door, and jumped out of the cab. The gentleman jumped after her and broke his nose on the ground. The girl, to escape his attentions, entered the first house she came to. It happened to be ours; and who do you suppose she found in the passage?—who but Fidélio colloguing with Adeline!—Then there was an explosion, explanation, confusion, and——"
"The iron must be red hot!"
"I’ll go and fetch it; but if it isn’t hot, I won’t come down again."
Robineau looked at himself in the mirror, saying:
"When Fifine is in the mood for chattering, there’s no way to stop her. But she puts on curl-papers like an angel; I shall have the best dressed hair at the ball."
Fifine returned, carrying the curling-iron, smoking hot.