"That's enough amusement for to-night!" But Dupont would not admit that he was beaten, although he really had been. A few days later, he tried his luck again at a ball; but this time he went to the Casino, which he had been told was the rendezvous of the women most in vogue. In truth, our provincial was agreeably impressed by the fine costumes and by the elegance of those ladies, most of whom were in party dresses instead of masks. "It is impossible," he said to himself, "that they dance such a dangerous galop here as they do at the Opéra. However, I will be prudent and not galop; I will confine myself to taking a partner for a contra-dance; that's the wiser way, because the figures are always the same; I know them all, and it isn't possible that I can be thrown down doing the English chain or the _pastourelle_." And Dupont, after walking about the hall for some time in search of a particularly shapely partner, invited at last a rather attractive person whose languorous eyes gazed into his with infinite good humor. They stood up to dance; but Dupont had for vis-à-vis a _gaillarde_ who had been a pupil of the famous Rigolboche, and whose bold and eccentric dancing was so renowned that people fought for places to watch her. When Dupont executed his _avant-deux_ before that lady, he suddenly received a superb kick full in the face, amid the applause and roars of laughter of the spectators. Dupont alone did not laugh; his nose was crushed, and he attempted to complain; but the tall _gaillarde_ said to him: "It's your own fault! You're a donkey, my dear friend; you ought to have known that that was the time when I lift my leg! If you don't know my steps, you shouldn't dance opposite me! Bribri would never have let my foot hit him!" As Dupont's nose was bleeding and pained him severely, he left the ball and went home to bed, saying to himself: "I've amused myself enough for to-day." Several days passed, and, Dupont's nose having healed, he said to himself: "I'll go to the ball again; I'll stick to it; but this time I won't dance." Attracted by the length of a poster which almost covered a whole pillar on the boulevards, he went to the ball in the Salle Barthélemy. There the crowd was almost as great as at the Opéra, but the company was infinitely less refined, and the tobacco smoke and the dust raised by the dancing, blended with the odor of the refreshments which were being served, gave to that ball a distinction peculiarly its own. Dupont discovered a pretty little brunette, whose dress resembled that of a grisette. She was alone; he offered his arm and a glass of punch. The girl hesitated, then replied: "You are very kind! I am very fond of punch, and I'd like to take a glass; but I'm afraid of Ronfland." "Who's Ronfland?"