This distressed the hairdresser not a little, and he remained silent.
'What shall I pay you, Mr.Saintou ?' said the little lady, when the large hat was once more on the head.
'If mademoiselle would but come again,' said the hairdresser, putting both hands resolutely behind his back.
'When I come again I shall pay you both for that time and this,' she said, with perhaps more tact than could have been expected of her.

'And if you want to live long, Mr.Saintou, don't feel.

If I should feel I should die off, quick, sharp, like a moth that flies into the candle.' She made a little gesture with her hand, as if to indicate the ease and suddenness with which the supposed catastrophe was to take place, and hobbled down the street.

Saintou stood in the doorway looking after her, and his heart went from him.
He sent her flowers--flowers that a duchess might have been proud to receive.

He sent them more than once, and they were accepted; he argued much from that.