Robbins "made a face" which was quite expressive enough, for Charley Melton read it to mean "the dragon wouldn't let him," and with a feeling of bitterness and rage which nearly tempted him to kick the organ-grinder into the gutter, he turned and walked away, to go straight from thence to Upper Gimp Street, where he found the handsome hairdresser rearranging the costume of his waxen lady dummy. "Ah, m'sieu; yes, I am quite at liberty. _Entrez_, m'sieu." Charley Melton confounded his "Ah, monsieur" with the Italian's "Ah, signore," and he walked into the saloon, and stood for a few minutes in silence thinking, while Monsieur Hector suggested hair-cutting, shampooing, scent, singeing, and other matters connected with his profession. "Look here, Mr Launay," he said at last. "M'sieu, _s'il vous plait_, m'sieu, it is the only pleasant reminder of my own clime." "Monsieur Launay then--" "I am at your service, m'sieu." "Some time back, when I was here, you were good enough to make me the offer of your services." "_Certainement_, m'sieu." "Monsieur Launay, what you have said is a profound secret between us? As a French gentleman, I trust to your honour." "Sare, I am the repository of the secrets of the aristocratic classes." "Then perhaps I shall trust you." "And monsieur accepts the offer of my services?" "I cannot say yet--I will call again." Charley Melton left the place and went along the street, for he could get no farther that day. He felt degraded, and the words choked him; but Monsieur Launay snatched a copy of _Le Petit Journal_ from over the head of his gentleman, whose fixed eyes followed the young man as he went slowly along the pavement with Joby close at his heels. "_C'est fait_?" exclaimed Monsieur Launay. "Justine, _mon ange_, I shall obey you and save Monsieur Melton--_Ma foi_! what a name! They will be happy, and then I--Ah, la France--la bel-le," he sang, "at last I shall return to you a rich man. Oh, but it was quite plain: he had sent a note by the dogue, and the boule-dogue had lost it and his collar. But what it is to be ingenious--to have of the spirit! If I rase and cut hair, I starve myself, but if I make myself of great use to all around, I grow rich. Live the secrets! Justine, you will be mine at last. "Aha!--it is good," he continued, "I have another secret to keep... This is the bureau aux secrets. He had not remarked the likeness to my adorable. It is beautiful, and she was _jalouse_ when I say I love my lady of wax. _Cette cherie_. But, _ma foi_! I must be busy over my other affairs; there is the coiffure of the Grande Barmouth to prepare. Aha, Milady La Grande, you will call _ma cherie bete, chouette_, stupide, and trouble her poor sweet soul. Now I shall have my revenge, and be on ze best of terms as you say all ze time. La--la--la--la--la-- la. Par-tir pour la guer-re--la guer-re. Ces braves soldats."