We were reassured by this information and had no further hesitation about loafing to our heart's content on the beach of Trouville. An hour later, various stretches of sand having been crossed and two or three directions asked in French and answered in Trouvillois, we managed to land at our inn. A woman of about forty--plump, clean and comely, with the quizzical smile of the Norman peasant on her lips--came up to us. This was Mother Oseraie, who probably never suspected the celebrity which one day the Parisian whom she received with an almost sneering air was to give her. Poor Mother Oseraie! had she suspected such a thing, perhaps she would have treated me as Plato in his _Republic_ advises that poets shall be dealt with: crowned with flowers and shown to the door! Instead of this, she advanced to meet me, and after gazing at me with curiosity from head to foot, she said-- "Good! so you have come?" "What do you mean by that?" I asked. "Well, your luggage has arrived and two rooms engaged for you." "Ah! now I understand." "Why two rooms?" "One for madame and one for myself." "Oh! but with us when people are married they sleep together!" "First of all, who told you that madame and I were married?... Besides, when we are, I shall be of the opinion of one of my friends whose name is Alphonse Karr!" "Well, what does your friend whose name is Alphonse Karr say?" "He says that at the end of a certain time, when a man and a woman occupy only one room together, they cease to become lover and mistress and become male and female; that is what he says." "Ah! I do not understand. However, no matter! you want two rooms?" "Exactly." "Well, you shall have them; but I would much rather you only took one [_prissiez_]." I will not swear that she said _prissiez_, but the reader will forgive me for adding that embellishment to our dialogue. "Of course, I can see through that," I replied; "you would have made us pay for two and you would have had one room left to let to other travellers." "Precisely!--I say, you are not very stupid for a Parisian, I declare!" I bowed to Mother Oseraie. "I am not altogether a Parisian," I replied; "but that is a mere matter of detail." "Then you will have the two rooms?" "I will." "I warn you they open one out of the other." "Capital!" "You shall be taken to them." She called a fine strapping lass with nose and eyes and petticoats turned up. "Take madame to her room," I said to the girl; "I will stop here and talk to Mother Oseraie." "Why?" "Because I find your conversation pleasant." "Gammon!" "Also I want to know what you will take us for per day." "And the night does not count then?" "Night and day." "There are two charges: for artists, it is forty sous." "What! forty sous ... for what?" "For board and lodging of course!" "Ah! forty sous!... And how many meals for that?" "As many as you like! two, three, four--according to your hunger--of course!"