“But, Sunday is tomorrow!”

“Well, she will not find me at the shop, that's all!”

“How is it you did not breathe a word of all this business?”

“So many things have happened to me during the last few days that I have not even thought of the Comtesse. What a disappointment for her!” and with these words the little romp clapped her hands.

A thought suddenly struck me.

“Would you be afraid if a woman made love to you?”

“I! What should I be afraid of?”

“I don't know.”

“No; especially if I am forewarned and I know what it is. Come, you have formed some plan?”

“I? No, I confess, however, that I should feel amused to see how a woman sets about it, to make love to another woman.”

“Just, as if you hadn't seen that already, you wicked man!”

“No, I once saw some girls playing at that sort of thing for the sake of money; but you know, it was not the real thing.”

“Well, that is a pity.”

“Perhaps it would be possible to renew your acquaintance with her?”

“How?”

“Do you know her address?”

“No.”

“But you were at her house.”

“The carriage took me there, but I did not notice the street or number.”

“If such is the case let us say no more about it. You will find some other lady-love, perhaps more than one-I feel certain.”

“Well, now when I come to think of it, you are not jealous, sir?”

“Of a woman, why should I be jealous of a woman? She will only excite your amorous desires, and I shall get a much better reception when I come to satisfy them.”

“But if it were a man?”

“Ah!” said I, in as serious a tone as I could; “that's another matter. If you deceived me with a man, I should kill you!”

“I am glad to hear that. I was getting afraid that you did not love me.”