"If I give you this," said the lady, "what would you do with it?"
"If Madame would tell me where to get it, I would buy a photograph of Madame," said I, with one of Paragot's "inspirations"; for she was very pretty.
"Voilà," she laughed putting the gold into my hand. "Tu me fais la cour, maintenant. Come and see me at the Villa Marcelle and I will give you a photograph gratis."
But Paragot when I repeated the conversation to him called the lady shocking names, and forbade me to go within a mile of the Villa Marcelle. So I did not get the photograph.
The next best thing I loved was to see Blanquette's eyes glitter when I returned to the platform and poured silver and copper into her lap. She uttered strange little exclamations under her breath, and her fingers played caressingly with the coins.
"We gain more here in a day than Père Paragot did in a week. It is wonderful. N'est-ce pas, Maître?" she said one morning.
Paragot tuned his violin and looked down on her.
"Money pleases you, Blanquette?"
"Of course."
She counted the takings sou by sou.