Towards five o'clock in the afternoon of the day following his private talk with Nichoune, Vagualame accosted the proprietor of a little inn situated at the extreme end of the town, and far removed from the tavern where he had passed the night.
"Mademoiselle Nichoune is not in, is she?"
"No, my good man—what do you want with her?"
Vagualame gave a little laugh.
"Has she not told you, then, that she was expecting someone from her part of the country to call on her?"
The innkeeper was leaning carelessly against the wall. He straightened himself a little.
"Yes, Mademoiselle Nichoune has told us that an old musician would call to see her this afternoon, and that we must ask him to wait."...
"Ah, she's a good, kind little thing! How courageous! What a worker!" Vagualame seemed to be speaking to himself.
"You know her very well, then?" asked the puzzled innkeeper.