"That's me. Have you got something you want washed?" "No, madame; I am sufficiently washed now! I would like to speak with Mademoiselle Rosette, your niece." Madame Chamouillet had returned to her washing; she paid much more attention to her linen than to what I said to her. "I come, madame, on the part of Madame Berlingot, on Rue----" "All right, monsieur, all right!--How can anyone soil linen like that! Look, monsieur, I leave it to you!" And she took from her tub a shirt, which she started to spread out for my inspection. I evaded that demonstration; but, as she put the shirt back in the tub, she threw a wet stocking in my face. I tried to take it calmly; I wiped my face and continued: "Will you kindly tell me where Mademoiselle Rosette is?" "Where Rosette is? How do you suppose I know? Oh, yes! on my word! As if anyone ever knows where she is!" "What, madame! isn't she here?" "No, monsieur.--It breaks my back to scrub this!" "But where shall I go to find her?" "Try at her aunts'." "I have already seen six of them, counting you, madame. I have called on Mesdames Falourdin, Riflot, Piquette, Dumarteau, Lumignon, and yourself. Who is the one that's left for me to see?" "Madame Cavalos, Rue de la Lune, No. 19. But I won't answer----" As she spoke, Madame Chamouillet let a piece of soap slip out of her hands, and my waistcoat had the benefit of it. I had had enough; I fled from the laundress; I seemed to be pursued by soapsuds. "Rue de la Lune, No. 19," I said to my cabman. Luckily, that took us back into my own neighborhood, and I was sure that this last quest could not be fruitless: Rosette must be there. That was the last of the aunts, and she had told me positively that when she was not with one of them I would find her with another. What a pity that I had not been sent to Rue de la Lune at the outset! I reached the end of my journeyings. I was directed to Madame Cavalos's lodging on the entresol. I found a very stout, thickset, little old woman, who greeted me with an affable bow and waited for me to speak. "Madame Cavalos?" "Bonjour, monsieur! very well, I thank you." "I wanted to speak to your niece, Mademoiselle Rosette." "Yes, monsieur, I don't change much; that's what everybody tells me." "I come from Madame Berlingot." "You thought I didn't live so low? I used to be higher up, but I've moved down." What did that mean? Madame Cavalos seemed to be stone deaf. I stepped nearer to her, and shouted at the top of my lungs: "I want to see Mademoiselle Rosette, your niece!" "You say you have come about my lease?" That was most trying. The woman was a fool. I gave up speaking and made a lot of strange gestures, trying to arouse her curiosity at least. Motioning to me to wait, she left the room, and returned with an ear trumpet, which she held to her ear, saying: "I ain't deaf; but some days I can't hear so well as others."