on to the Rue Pirouette; and in the evening, a gas jet burnt over the
two tables painted to resemble marble. It was there that Gavard and
his political friends met each evening after dinner. They looked upon
themselves as being quite at home there, and had prevailed on the
landlord to reserve the place for them. When Monsieur Lebigre had closed
the door of the glazed partition, they knew themselves to be so safely
screened from intrusion that they spoke quite unreservedly of the great
"sweep out" which they were fond of discussing. No unprivileged customer
would have dared to enter.

[*] This is a kind of dial turning on a pivot, and usually
enclosed in a brass frame, from which radiate a few small
handles or spokes. Round the face of the dial--usually of
paper--are various numerals, and between the face and its
glass covering is a small marble or wooden ball. The
appliance is used in lieu of dice or coins when two or more
customers are "tossing" for drinks. Each in turn sends the
dial spinning round, and wins or loses according to the
numeral against which the ball rests when the dial stops. As
I can find no English name for the appliance, I have thought
it best to describe it.--Translator.

On the first day that Gavard took Florent off he gave him some
particulars of Monsieur Lebigre. He was a good fellow, he said, who
sometimes came to drink his coffee with them; and, as he had said one
day that he had fought in '48, no one felt the least constraint in his
presence. He spoke but little, and seemed rather thick-headed. As the
gentlemen passed him on their way to the private room they grasped
his hand in silence across the glasses and bottles. By his side on
the crimson leather seat behind the counter there was generally a fair
little woman, whom he had engaged as counter assistant in addition
to the white-aproned waiter who attended to the tables and the
billiard-room. The young woman's name was Rose, and she seemed a very
gentle and submissive being. Gavard, with a wink of his eye, told
Florent that he fancied Lebigre had a weakness for her. It was she, by
the way, who waited upon the friends in the private room, coming and
going, with her happy, humble air, amidst the stormiest political
discussions.

Upon the day on which the poultry dealer took Florent to Lebigre's to
present him to his friends, the only person whom the pair found in the
little room when