_Ah, par exemple, elle brule ses vais-seux cella-la_! She threw herself into my arms the very first day, and I almost owed her a grudge for having deprived me of that pleasure of gradation, of carrying the defences, one by one, which is almost as great as that of entering the place.
Would you believe that at the end of exactly twelve minutes she gave me a rendezvous?
It is true it was in the Galerie d'Apollon, at the Louvre; but that was respectable for a beginning, and since then we have had them by the dozen; I have ceased to keep the account.

_Non, c'est une file qui me depasse_.
The little one (she has a mother somewhere, out of sight, shut up in a closet or a trunk) is a good deal prettier, and, perhaps, on that account _elle y met plus de facons_.

She doesn't knock about Paris with me by the hour; she contents herself with long interviews in the _petit salon_, with the curtains half-drawn, beginning at about three o'clock, when every one is _a la promenade_.

She is admirable, this little one; a little too thin, the bones rather accentuated, but the detail, on the whole, most satisfactory.

And you can say anything to her.