She wheeled to see M.
Savary dit Detricand leaning with both elbows on the little counter, his chin in his hand, grinning provokingly, "Oh, it's you!" she said snappishly; "I hope you're pleased." "Don't be cross," he answered, his head swinging unsteadily.

"I wasn't laughing at you, heaven-born Jersienne.

I wasn't, 'pon honour! I was laughing at a thing I saw five minutes ago." He nodded in gurgling enjoyment now.

"You mustn't mind me, seraphine," he added, "I'd a hot night, and I'm warm as a thrush now.

But I saw a thing five minutes ago!"-- he rolled on the stall.