If sounds ever have color, the humming in his ears was of a rosy hue; if thoughts ever exhale fragrance, his brain overflowed with the sweets of violet and heliotrope.
He had in mind what he was going to say when Alice and he should be alone together.

It was a pretty speech, he thought; indeed a very thrilling little speech, by the way it stirred his own nerve-centers as he conned it over.
Madame Roussillon met him at the door in not a very good humor.
"Is Mademoiselle Alice here ?" he ventured to demand.
"Alice?
no, she's not here; she's never here just when I want her most.
V'la le picbois et la grive--see the woodpecker and the robin--eating the cherries, eating every one of them, and that girl running off somewhere instead of staying here and picking them," she railed in answer to the young man's polite inquiry.

"I haven't seen her these four hours, neither her nor that rascally hunchback, Jean.

They're up to some mischief, I'll be bound!" Madame Roussillon puffed audibly between phrases; but she suddenly became very mild when relieved of her tirade.
"Mais entrez," she added in a pleasant tone, "come in and tell me the news." Rene's disappointment rushed into his face, but he managed to laugh it aside.
"Father Beret has just been telling me," said Madame Roussillon, "that our friend Long-Hair made some trouble last night.

How about it ?" Rene told her what he knew and added that Long-Hair would probably never be seen again.
"He was shot, no doubt of it," he went on, "and is now being nibbled by fish and turtles.