"Oh! by the way, I ought to warn you of one thing: I can't say just when I shall be able to pay you."

"Don't let that disturb you! You may pay me when fortune smiles on you again, when you have a profitable practice."

"Oh! as for that, you will be the first person paid. So I'm in funds once more! _Vive la joie!_--No more potatoes! I've had enough of them; I've been stuffed with them for a long time. But I won't tell Satine that my pockets are lined, for she has always some invention or other in her head, and it's too risky."

I was about to take leave of Balloquet, who was just pulling on his trousers, when we heard three little taps at his door. The young doctor listened and smiled.

"What sort of a farce are you going to play this time?" I asked him.

"Oh! this is no creditor, my dear fellow, I am sure. The creditor knocks noisily; but those soft little taps--I'll bet that it's someone to consult me."

He went into the outer room and called:

"Who's there?"

"Someone who wishes to consult monsieur le medecin," replied a soft, female voice.

"I will leave you," I said, taking my hat; but Balloquet detained me.

"Do stay," he said. "Thus far you have seen nothing but the unpleasant features of my position as a debtor; it is only fair that you should be a witness also of the advantages we owe to our profession. This is some girl to consult me. It is sometimes quite amusing to listen. They conceal nothing from their doctor; they tell him some things that they certainly wouldn't tell their lovers."

"But she won't dare to say anything before a witness, will she?"

"It will be enough to tell her that you're a confrere; then she'll look on you as another myself. If there were ten of us here, and I should say they were all doctors, she'd take them all for her confidants."

"In that case, I will stay and listen to the consultation."

I resumed my seat, while Balloquet donned his dressing gown, and opened the door himself.

The doctor was not mistaken; it was a young girl, with a costume halfway between that of a grisette and a nursery maid. Light hair, an attractive face, eyes cast down like an innocent schoolgirl, but with a certain twist in her gait which bore no trace of innocence.

She made a courtesy, then glanced at me, and halted.

"Monsieur is a confrere, another myself," said Balloquet; "so you may speak before him without fear; indeed, you may be the gainer by so doing, for two opinions are better than one. Be seated, mademoiselle, and tell me what brings you here."

The girl courtesied again, and tried to smile; but in the midst of the smile, her features contracted with pain; she pressed her lips together, clenched her hands, and leaned against the desk.

"Are you in pain?" asked Balloquet, pushing a chair toward her.

She seemed to breathe with difficulty, but she smiled again, saying:

"It's over now; I hope it won't amount to anything, but it makes me feel very bad at times."

"Tell me what it is."

"I am a lacemaker, monsieur; but there hasn't been much doing in that trade for some time, and one earns so little! And I admit that I'm a good deal of an idler; when I'm sent on an errand, I like to stop in front of the caricature shops and confectioners; and I like the theatre too, and b.a.l.l.s. It's such good fun to dance at Mabille, at Valentino's, and at the Cite-d'Antin. In fact, I like a good time, I don't deny it."

"That's characteristic of your age, mademoiselle; indeed, we all like a good time. Everyone enjoys it according to his tastes. At twenty, it's love and clothes; at thirty, money; at forty, ambition and t.i.tles; later, cards and rest. But at every age, when we seek to gratify our desires, we are always after a good time. Go on."

"But, monsieur, when you want to enjoy yourself, and haven't any money, it's very hard!"

"Sometimes; it depends on the sort of enjoyment you want."

"One night, I was walking on the Champs-elysees with a friend of mine, who's a good deal of an idler, like myself, and likes good things to eat, too. As we pa.s.sed a cafe, we looked at the people eating ices at the tables outside, and my friend said: 'I've never eaten any of that!

None of the lovers I've ever had have been good for more than a bottle of cider or beer. Oh, yes! there was one who ordered punch; but he drank it all and didn't leave me half a gla.s.s!'--'I don't know what ices taste like, either,' said I; 'but I'd like right well to try one.'--At that, a fat man behind us, who was listening to us, I suppose, said: 'Allow me to satisfy your longing, mesdemoiselles, and to offer you an ice. See, here's an unoccupied table; let's sit down here.'

"I was rather taken by surprise and didn't know what to reply, but my friend nudged me and whispered: 'Let's accept and take the ices; what harm will it do? it don't bind us to anything. Besides, he's a well-dressed man, he's _comme il faut_. I'm going to accept, anyway!'--And she drew me toward the table. You can understand that I couldn't very well refuse.--Well, he treated us; my friend had three ices, but I only took two; they made my teeth ache a little. He stuffed us with cakes and macaroons, too; so my friend thought he was charming; but he wasn't at all to my taste. His face was red and all covered with pimples. However, he had pleasant manners, and, although my friend made eyes at him, he paid all his attention to me. That made my friend mad.

At last, messieurs--monsieur le docteur--you understand?"

"Yes, perfectly; you made the acquaintance of the stout man who paid for the ices; but that doesn't tell us why you are suffering now."

"Ah! that's the sequel. I had known that gentleman about six months. I hadn't got used to him at all; but I had got used to his presents. It isn't that he was very generous---- However, when you don't love a man, you ask nothing better than to deceive him."

"That is perfectly natural, mademoiselle; sometimes, indeed, you deceive him when you do love him."

"Oh! that's true, too; I believe such things have been known. Well, about six weeks ago I made the acquaintance of a young man I liked very much."

"And you left the stout party?"

"Mon Dieu! I intended to, certainly--that was my purpose--but----"

"You didn't have a chance, eh?"

"That's it, monsieur. I was looking for an opportunity; I didn't know just what to do, for I had discovered that Monsieur Bouqueton was very brutal, with all his _comme il faut_ air."

"Bouqueton!" I exclaimed, struck by that name, as I recalled Madame Dauberny's confidences on the subject of her husband. "So your stout man's name is Bouqueton, is it?"

"Yes, monsieur. Do you know him?"

"No, not I. But I have heard of him from a friend of mine, who didn't speak very highly of him. Go on, mademoiselle."

"I was looking for a chance to break with Monsieur Bouqueton; but, meanwhile, I continued to receive his presents--so as not to make him suspicious. Well, three days ago, my lover--my real lover--came and asked me to dine with him at a little restaurant on Rue du Ponceau, where they have private rooms. Naturally, I said _yes_. When I went out, I met my friend, the one who had the ices with me on the Champs-elysees.

She asked me where I was going, and I was fool enough to tell her. Oh!

women are such traitors! It's never safe to trust one's friends! I am sure that it was she who told Monsieur Bouqueton that I had another lover. By making trouble between him and me, she hoped he'd take her, I suppose--the vile s.l.u.t! Well, messieurs, when I came out of the restaurant with my lover, I saw Monsieur Bouqueton standing guard at the door. I trembled all over. I didn't want to go home, but my young man couldn't take me with him, for he hadn't any rooms of his own: he lives with his employer, four clerks in one room. I couldn't go and play puss-in-the-corner with all four; so I says to myself: 'Never mind!

here's the opportunity I've been looking for to break with Monsieur Bouqueton.'

"Sure enough, I hadn't been at home half an hour, when someone knocked at my door. It was Monsieur Bouqueton. I was all of a tremble when I opened the door; but I was surprised to hear him speak to me very gently, and say: 'So you don't love me any more, Annette?'--My name's Annette.--'I can't blame you; for I know that liaisons like ours can't last forever. I have come to say good-bye to you; but I don't propose to part on bad terms; on the contrary, to prove that I don't bear you any grudge, I'll treat you to _bischoff_. I know a place where they make it delicious. We'll take a cab and go there; then I'll bring you home, and we'll part the best of friends.'

"I was so delighted that Monsieur Bouqueton didn't make a scene, that I accepted his invitation. I certainly ought to have been suspicious of his honey-sweet air, but I'm very fond of _bischoff_. Oh! what a miserable thing it is to be a glutton! That fault has always made me make a fool of myself.

"I put my cap on again, and we went out. Monsieur Bouqueton put me into a cab, but I didn't hear what he said to the driver. We started off. It was about ten o'clock at night. The cab went on and on.

"'Is this cafe of yours very far?' I asked.

"'Rather far; but we shall soon be there now.'

"The cab stopped at last. Monsieur Bouqueton helped me out and paid the cabman, who drove away. I looked about; it was as dark as a pocket, and we had no lantern. All I could see was big trees.