Monsieur Margot, the trial to which I shall put you is less severe.

Look, (and Mrs.
Green threw open the window)--look, I throw my glove out into the street--descend for it." "Your commands are my law," said the romantic Margot.

"I will go forthwith," and so saying, he went to the door.
"Hold, Sir!" said the lady, "it is not by that simple manner that you are to descend--you must go the same way as my glove, out of the window." "Out of the window, Madame!" said Monsieur Margot, with astonished solemnity; "that is impossible, because this apartment is three stories high, and consequently I shall be dashed to pieces." "By no means," answered the dame; "in that corner of the room there is a basket, to which (already foreseeing your determination) I have affixed a rope; by that basket you shall descend.

See, Monsieur, what expedients a provident love can suggest." "H--e--m!" said, very slowly, Monsieur Margot, by no means liking the airy voyage imposed upon him; "but the rope may break, or your hand may suffer it to slip." "Feel the rope," cried the lady, "to satisfy you as to your first doubt; and, as to the second, can you--can you imagine that my affections would not make me twice as careful of your person as of my own.

Fie! ungrateful Monsieur Margot! fie!" The melancholy chevalier cast a rueful look at the basket.