I am not sure that I did not even regard them in the light of additional attractions.

That which in another I should have called _bete_, I set down to the score of _naivete_ in Mademoiselle Josephine.

One is not diffident at twenty--by the way, I was now twenty-one--especially after dining at the Maison Doree.
Mademoiselle Josephine was frankness itself.

Before I had enjoyed the pleasure of her acquaintance for ten minutes, she told me she was an artificial florist; that her _patronne_ lived in the Rue Menilmontant; that she went to her work every morning at nine, and left it every evening at eight; that she lodged _sous les toits_ at No.

70, Rue Aubry-le-Boucher; that her relations lived at Juvisy; and that she went to see them now and then on Sundays, when the weather and her funds permitted.
"Is the country pretty at Juvisy, Mademoiselle ?" I asked, by way of keeping up the conversation.
"Oh, M'sieur, it is a real paradise.