you, for I never did, and never will go there, except with the
young friend I was telling you about; but whenever you can afford to
take me out to dinner or to the play, I shall be quite ready to
accompany you, and when it does not suit you to spend the money, or when
you have none to spend, why then we will take a walk, and have a good
look at the shops, which is almost the nicest thing I know, unless it is
buying at them. And I promise you, you shall have no reason to feel
ashamed of my appearance, let us go out among ever such company. Oh,
when I wear my dark blue levantine silk gown, I flatter myself I _do_
look like somebody! It is such a love of a dress, and fits me so
beautifully! I never wear it but on Sundays, and then I put on such a
love of a lace cap, trimmed with shaded orange-colour riband, which
looks so well with dark hair like mine; then I have some such elegant
boots of satin hue, made for me, not bought at the Temple! And last of
all comes such a shawl! Oh, neighbour, I doubt if you ever walked with
any one in such perfect beauty; it is a real _bourre-de-soie_, in
imitation of cashmere. I quite expect we shall be stared at and admired
by every one as we go along; the men will look back as they pass me, and
say, 'Upon my word that's an uncommon pretty-looking girl,--she is, 'pon
honour!' Then the women will cry, 'What a stylish-looking man! Do you
see that tall, thin person? I declare, he has such a fashionable
appearance that he might pass as somebody if he liked; what a becoming
and handsome moustachio he has!' And between ourselves, neighbour, I
quite agree with these remarks, and especially about the moustachio, for
I dearly love to see a man wear them. Unfortunately M. Germain did not
wear a moustachio, on account of the situation he held; I believe his
employer did not permit his young men to wear them. To be sure, M.
Cabrion did wear moustachios, but then, his were quite red, like his
great bushy beard, and I hate those huge beards; and besides, I did not
like Cabrion for two other reasons; one was, he used to play all kinds
of scampish tricks out in the street, and the other thing I disliked
was his tormenting poor old Pipelet as he did. Certainly, M. Giraudeau,
the person who lived next to me before M. Cabrion, was rather a
smart-looking man, and dressed very well; but then he squinted, and at
first that used to put me out very much, because he always seemed to be
looking past me at some one by