“Better still, M’sieu Moche.”
“But no nonsense, you know! it’s a serious matter, and you must be serious. No larks with the girl, she’s going to be my tenant.”
“You’re a house owner then, M’sieu Moche?”
“Yes, my boy, a house owner, but a poor, hard-up one at that; don’t you go and think I’m a millionaire ... Anyhow, I’ve a bit of a place where the young lady in question has rented a flat.”
“And that’s where I’m to go, M’sieu Moche?”
“No, my ‘Little Tremendous,’ you’re to go to the Rue des Couronnes ... d’you hear? the Rue des Couronnes while my house stands in the Rue de l’Evangile.”
“Now I can’t quite follow you, M’sieu Moche.”
“That’s because you talk too much, my lad! Shut your trap a bit, and I’ll explain.”
“Shut it is, M’sieu Moche.”
“Good! well, here’s how it is: The lady has hired my flat; only as I can’t say if she’ll fork out the tin regularly, I should like you to go and have a look what furniture she’s got, to know if it’s good to cover the quarter’s rent.”