“I want to buy some lions,” I then said.
He began to laugh, and then he asked:
“Do you really, Mademoiselle? Are you so fond of animals? I went to London last week to see the Comédie Française, and I saw you in Hernani.”
“It wasn’t from that you discovered that I like animals?” I said to him.
“No, it was a man who sells dogs in St. Andrew’s Street who told me. He said you had bought two dogs from him, and that if it had not been for a gentleman who was with you, you would have bought five.”
He told me all this in very bad French, but with a great deal of humour.
“Well, Mr. Cross,” I said, “I want two lions to-day.”
“I’ll show you what I have,” he replied, leading the way into the courtyard where the wild beasts were. Oh, what magnificent creatures they were! There were two superb African lions with shining coats and powerful-looking tails, which were beating the air. They had only just arrived and they were in perfect health, with plenty of courage for rebellion. They knew nothing of the resignation which is the dominating stigma of civilised beings.
“Oh, Mr. Cross,” I said, “these are too big. I want some young lions!”
“I haven’t any, Mademoiselle.”