Our lover hastened to take his place at a window that overlooked the pump. Georgette was there, in the little petticoat that clung about her hips; and the exercise of pumping developed all her good points most happily. Did the girl suspect it? Probably, for she seemed to take pleasure in what is to most people tiresome labor. Monsieur de Mardeille, having gazed for several minutes at the animated picture before him, hurried to his cashbox and took out a bundle of banknotes. His hesitation was at an end; he stuffed them hastily into a wallet, which he put in his pocket; then, making a rapid toilet, he left his room and betook himself to Georgette's apartment, saying to himself, like Cæsar as he passed the Rubicon: "_Alea jacta est!_" The young shirtmaker had hardly time enough to leave the pump, reach her room, and resume her work, ere she saw Monsieur de Mardeille enter, eager, agitated, and throbbing with hope. He rushed toward Georgette, took a seat near her, and said: "My dear little neighbor, I have come to ask your pardon----" "My pardon! Why, I have no recollection that you have offended me, monsieur." "Oh! yes, yes! The last time that I was here I said things to you that I shouldn't have said." "If you did, monsieur, I have forgotten them." "Ah! that is well done! how amiable of you! But I could not live away from you, charming Georgette; I was too unhappy!" "Really?" "It is so true, that to prove my love I have decided to submit to every sacrifice--which I never did before for any woman. But what would one not do to touch that bewitching petticoat, which always flies when I try to catch it! See, fascinating girl; take this wallet; it contains twelve thousand francs in banknotes! Will this put an end to your rigorous treatment of me?" Georgette's cheeks flushed; a gleam of joy, of triumph, shone in her eyes; she took the portfolio, looked at it without opening it, and said in an uncertain voice: "As you have done this, I must needs yield to you. But I ask you for a respite of one more day. I want to think of my family to-day, to recall my childish memories; but to-morrow, oh! to-morrow, you will no longer find me cruel!" "I cannot refuse anything to her who promises me perfect bliss! So to-morrow you will not be wild and shy any more--you will let me touch that little villain of a skirt that puts my heart in a flutter?" "Oh! I promise you that you shall touch it all you choose to-morrow, and that I shall not object!" "Enough, enough, my divinity! I do not care to hear any more, and I leave you until to-morrow; for if I should stay with you, I would not answer for my self-restraint. Until to-morrow! We will breakfast together, and your windows will be closed, won't they?" "They will be, you will see." Monsieur de Mardeille took his leave; he was in raptures, and said to himself: