"You are a frightful man, Malicorne. I was going to rejoice at getting this commission, and thus you take away all my joy."
"Good! there is no time lost; you will rejoice when I am gone."
"Go, then; and after "
"So be it; but, in the first place, a piece of advice."
"What is it?"
"Resume your good humor, you are ugly when you pout."
"Coarse!"
"Come, let us tell our truths to each other, while we are about it."
"Oh, Malicorne! Bad-hearted man!"
"Oh, Montalais! Ungrateful girl!"
The young man leaned with his elbow upon the window-frame; Montalais took a book and opened it. Malicorne stood up, brushed his hat with his sleeve, smoothed down his black pourpoint; Montalais, though pretending to read, looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Good!" cried she, quite furious; "he has assumed his respectful air — and he will pout for a week."
"A fortnight, mademoiselle," said Malicorne, bowing. Montalais lifted up her little doubled fist. "Monster!" said she; "oh, that I were a man!"
"What would you do to me?"
"I would strangle you."
"Ah! very well, then," said Malicorne; "I believe I begin to desire something."
"And what do you desire. Monsieur Demon? That I should lose my soul from anger?"
Malicorne was rolling his hat respectfully between his fingers; but all at once he let fall his hat, seized the young girl by the two shoulders, pulled her toward him, and applied to her lips two other very warm lips for a man pre tending to so much indifference. Aure would have cried out, but the cry was stifled in the kiss. Nervous and apparently angry, the young girl pushed Malicorne against the wall.
"Good!" said Malicorne philosophically, "that's enough for six weeks. Adieu, mademoiselle; accept my very humble salutation." And he made three steps toward the door.
"Well! no, you shall not go!" cried Montalais, stamping with her little foot. "Stay where you are! I order you!"
"You order me?"
"Yes; am I not mistress?"
