"Good! you say, then, that it is forty sous per day?" "For artists--Are you a painter?" "No." "Well, then it will be fifty sous for you and fifty for your lady--a hundred sous together." I could not believe the sum. "Then it is a hundred sous for two, three or four meals and two rooms?" "A hundred sous--Do you think it is too dear?" "No, if you do not raise the price." "Why should I raise it, pray?" "Oh well, we shall see." "No! not here ... If you were a painter it would only be forty sous." "What is the reason for this reduction in favour of artists?" "Because they are such nice lads and I am so fond of them. It was they who began to make the reputation of my inn." "By the way, do you know a painter called Decamps?" "Decamps? I should think so!" "And Jadin?" "Jadin? I do not know that name." I thought Mother Oseraie was bragging; but I possessed a touch-stone. "And Huet?" I asked. "Oh, yes! I knew him." "You do not remember anything in particular about him, do you?" "Indeed, yes, I remember that I saved his life." "Bah! come, how did that happen?" "One day when he was choking with a sole bone. It doesn't take long to choke one's self with a fish bone!" "And how did you save his life." "Oh! only just in time. Why, he was already black in the face." "What did you do to him?" "I said to him, 'Be patient and wait for me.'" "It is not easy to be patient when one is choking." "Good heavens! what else could I have said? It wasn't my fault. Then I ran as fast as I could into the garden; I tore up a leek, washed it, cut off its stalks and stuffed it right down his throat. It is a sovereign remedy for fish bones!" "Indeed, I can well believe it." "Now, he never speaks of me except with tears in his eyes." "All the more since the leek belongs to the onion family." "All the same, it vexes me." "What vexes you? That the poor dear man was not choked?" "No, no, indeed! I am delighted and I thank you both in his name and in my own: he is a friend of mine, and, besides, a man of great talent. But I am vexed that Trouville has been discovered by three artists before being discovered by a poet." "Are you a poet, then?" "Well, I might perhaps venture to say that I am." "What is a poet? Does it bring in an income?" "No." "Well, then, it is a poor sort of business." I saw I had given Mother Oseraie but an indifferent idea of myself. "Would you like me to pay you a fortnight in advance?" "What for?" "Why! In case you are afraid that as I am a poet I may go without paying you!" "If you went away without paying me it would be all the worse for you, but not for me." "How so?" "For having robbed an honest woman; for I am an honest woman, I am." "I begin to believe it, Mother Oseraie; but I, too, you see, am not a bad lad." "Well, I don't mind telling you that you give me that impression. Will you have dinner?" "Rather! Twice over rather than once." "Then, go upstairs and leave me to attend to my business."