I saw in her a means of meeting with Marguerite, and profited by a moment in which she looked my way to wave my hand to her.

As I expected, she beckoned to me to come to her box.
Prudence Duvernoy (that was the milliner's auspicious name) was one of those fat women of forty with whom one requires very little diplomacy to make them understand what one wants to know, especially when what one wants to know is as simple as what I had to ask of her.
I took advantage of a moment when she was smiling across at Marguerite to ask her, "Whom are you looking at ?" "Marguerite Gautier." "You know her ?" "Yes, I am her milliner, and she is a neighbour of mine." "Do you live in the Rue d'Antin ?" "No.

7.

The window of her dressing-room looks on to the window of mine." "They say she is a charming girl." "Don't you know her ?" "No, but I should like to." "Shall I ask her to come over to our box ?" "No, I would rather for you to introduce me to her." "At her own house ?" "Yes.
"That is more difficult." "Why ?" "Because she is under the protection of a jealous old duke." "'Protection' is charming." "Yes, protection," replied Prudence.

"Poor old man, he would be greatly embarrassed to offer her anything else." Prudence then told me how Marguerite had made the acquaintance of the duke at Bagneres.
"That, then," I continued, "is why she is alone here ?" "Precisely." "But who will see her home ?" "He will." "He will come for her ?" "In a moment." "And you, who is seeing you home ?" "No one." "May I offer myself ?" "But you are with a friend, are you not ?" "May we offer, then ?" "Who is your friend ?" "A charming fellow, very amusing.