For her part, she had glanced several times at me, as if unintentionally. She scrutinized the posters for a long while; and as I was in no hurry, I too remained in front of the pillar. I had assured myself at least twelve times that _La Grâce de Dieu_ was to be given at the Gaîté, and it seemed to me that my neighbor also kept reading the same thing over and over again. However, she walked away at last along the boulevard. We were then in front of the Gymnase. There was nothing to detain me there, for I was thoroughly posted concerning the programme at the Gaîté. Furthermore, that grisette took my eye. I believed that I could safely classify her as a grisette, with liberty to do her justice later, if I had insulted her. Why should I not try to make her acquaintance? For some time, my behavior had been virtuous to a degree which accorded neither with my tastes nor with my habits. Being obliged to eschew sentiment with my former acquaintances, I was conscious of a void in my heart which I should be very glad to fill. I walked after the young woman. One is sometimes sadly at a loss to begin a conversation in the street; but for some reason or other, I did not feel the slightest embarrassment with that girl. She walked so slowly that I easily overtook her. She did not precisely look at me; but I was fully persuaded that she saw me. Should I begin with the usual compliments: "You are adorable! With such pretty eyes, you cannot be cruel!" or other remarks of the same sort? No, they were too stupid and worn too threadbare; so I addressed her as if we were already acquainted, and said: "Do you like the theatre, mademoiselle?" "Yes, monsieur, very much!" She answered without the slightest affectation, and with no indication that she was offended by my question. I took that as a good omen, and continued: "Would you like to go to-night?" "To-night? Oh, dear, no! But I was looking for the Palais-Royal advertisement; I wanted to know what they were playing there, and I can't ever find it." "I am sorry I didn't know that sooner, for I would have shown it to you." "After all, it don't make any difference." "But if you like the theatre, won't you allow me to give you some tickets?" "Tickets! Do you have theatre tickets? for what theatre?" "It doesn't make any difference: I have some for them all. Perhaps you may think that I am lying, that I say this to trap you, when my only purpose is to make your acquaintance. But I assure you, mademoiselle, that I shall be only too happy to be useful to you. Allow me to send you some tickets; that doesn't bind you to anything." The girl stopped. We were then near Porte Saint-Denis. She hesitated a moment, then replied: "Well! send me some tickets; I'll accept them; but don't send them to my house; that'll never do, because I live with my aunts. I have a lot of aunts, and I am not free."