I walked into the office and wrote the following message:
"Coquelin, Cadet,[15] 17 Boulevard Haussmann, Paris: I am madly in love with the little red-haired telegraph operator at Baisenmoyen-Cert."
I tremblingly handed her the telegram.
I expected at least, that her beautiful white complexion would effulge.
But no!
Not a muscle relaxed! In the calmest manner in the world she said: "Fifty-nine centimes, please."
Thoroughly nonplused by this queenly serenity, I fumbled about in my pockets for the coin.
But I could not find a sou. From my pocket-book I took a thousand-franc note and gave it her.
She took the bank-note and scrutinized it carefully.
The examination terminated favorably, for her face was suddenly wreathed in smiles, and she burst into a charming ripple of infectious laughter, displaying her marvelously handsome teeth.