The female contingent was horrified by the conduct of the gentlemen; for no one of them had ever shown the slightest desire to gaze at one of the beauties of the establishment; to be sure, there were none, save the ugly man's wife, and she never appeared at any of the windows looking on the courtyard. Her bedroom faced the boulevard, and she would have considered that she compromised her reputation by showing herself at one of the rear windows. By way of compensation, her husband was one of the most enterprising, one of those who tried most frequently to see Georgette, and who indulged in telegraphic signals to which the young shirtmaker paid no attention whatever. But that did not discourage Monsieur Bistelle,--that was the gentleman's name,--who continued to throw kisses to the girl, which she pretended not to see; it scandalized all the neighbors, however. The young dressmakers amused themselves at Monsieur Bistelle's expense, and pointed him out to one another as soon as he appeared at his window. The lady of the beauty spot, Madame Picotée, always stationed herself at her window as soon as her neighbor came to his, and burst into roars of laughter, a little forced. At every kiss that Monsieur Bistelle threw to Georgette, she cried: "Oh! mon Dieu! what fools some men are! but I never saw one quite so bad as this fellow! And a married man, too! why, it's shocking! The Bastille ought to be rebuilt on purpose for such people." Monsieur Bistelle heard it all; but it made no impression on him, and he often said to himself, in an undertone: "Bah! if I had chosen to send her a kiss, she wouldn't have thought it so shocking!" Monsieur de Mardeille was very careful not to act so foolishly as his neighbor on the second floor. He also stood at his window to look at Georgette; but, far from making signs and throwing kisses to her, he contented himself with a low bow, to which the girl never failed to respond with a pleasant smile. But as Bistelle was often looking out just as Georgette nodded and smiled, he took for himself the salutation addressed to the floor below; so that his hopes gained strength; he was enchanted; he would rub his hands in glee and sometimes go down to walk in the courtyard, where he would stop under the shirtmaker's windows, humming: "''Tis here that Rose doth dwell!'" or: "'When one knows how to love and please, What other blessing doth he lack?'" And the young dressmakers never failed to clap their hands and demand an encore. One day, Madame Picotée had the bright idea of tossing him two sous, which he laughingly picked up and put in his pocket, saying: "This will buy me some rouge and rice powder."--Which remark maddened the lady of the beauty spot, who ran for her slop jar and would have emptied it on her neighbor, but for the presence of the concierge, who was sweeping the courtyard.