When I reflect that you
go back to-night, that to-morrow you will be again in Paris, I could
gnash my teeth with jealousy."
"But, ma foi!" returned Tricotrin, "to a girl of brains, like yourself,
Paris is always open. Are there no customers for eyelashes in France?
Why condemn yourself to gnash with jealousy when there is a living to
be earned at home?"
"There are several reasons," she said; "for one thing, I am an
extravagant little hussy and haven't saved enough for a ticket."
"I have heard no reason yet! At the moment my pocket is nicely lined--
you might return with me this evening,"
"Are you mad by any chance?" she laughed.
"It seems to me the natural course."
"Well, I should not be free to go like that, even if I took your money.
I am a business woman, you see, who does not sacrifice her interests to
her sentiment. What is your own career, monsieur Tricotrin?"
"I am a poet, And when I am back in Paris I shall write verse about
you. It shall be an impression of London--the great city as it reveals
itself to a stranger whose eyes are dazzled by the girl he loves."
"Forbidden ground!" she cried, admonishing him with a finger. "No
dazzle!"
"I apologise," said Tricotrin; "you shall find me a poet of my word.
Why, I declare," he exclaimed, glancing from the window, "it has begun
to rain!"
"Well, fortunately, we have plenty of time; there is all day for our
excursion and we can wait for the weather to improve.
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