As he spoke, Monsieur de Mardeille extended his hand toward the little black petticoat; but Georgette quickly moved her chair away and struck him a smart blow on the fingers, saying in a very serious tone: "Well! monsieur, what sort of manners are these? I have told you before that I did not like that!" The ex-beau stamped on the floor in a rage, crying: "Sapristi! mademoiselle, so you propose to make a fool of me to the end! You give me reason to hope that you will cease to be cruel, and then you forbid me the slightest liberty! What does it all mean? Where do we stand? I would like very much to know what to expect." "I am not making a fool of you, monsieur; but what led you to think that I was about to yield to you already?" "Already! _already_ is very pretty, on my word! When I have been making love to mademoiselle more than two months! when I have made great sacrifices for her! I am not talking about the dress--that was a trifle; but you seemed to want a diamond brooch, and I sent it to you instantly. That was no trifle, allow me to tell you; and when a woman accepts such presents----" "She immediately becomes the mistress of the man who gives them; is that it, monsieur?" "Faith, yes! at least, that's the general rule." "Well, monsieur, it isn't according to my ideas!" "In that case, mademoiselle, what are your ideas, or rather your demands? for, really, I don't understand you." "Look you, Monsieur de Mardeille, do you wish me to explain myself frankly? do you wish me to tell you what I have resolved upon?" "Oh, yes! pray explain yourself! that will give me great pleasure! Speak! I am impatient to hear you." "Listen to me, then, monsieur. If I, being touched and flattered by your present of a brooch, should yield to you to-day, as you claim that I ought to do, what would happen, monsieur? This: that when your love, or rather your caprice, was once satisfied--for, with most men of your stamp, this ardent love is only a caprice----" "Oh! can you believe----"