Pere Piquedent raised his hat and bowed. She put out her hand toward him, and they stared at one another without uttering a word. Then they stepped into my boat, and I took the oars. They were seated side by side near the stern. The usher was the first to speak. “This is nice weather for a row in a boat.” She murmured: “Oh! yes.” She dipped her hand into the water, skimming the surface, making a thin, transparent film like a sheet of glass, which made a soft plashing along the side of the boat. When they were in the restaurant, she took it on herself to speak, and ordered dinner, fried fish, a chicken, and salad; then she led us on toward the isle, which she knew perfectly. After this, she was gay, romping, and even rather tantalizing. Until dessert, no question of love arose. I had treated them to champagne, and Pere Piquedent was tipsy. Herself slightly the worse, she called out to him: “Monsieur Piquenez.” He said abruptly: “Mademoiselle, Monsieur Raoul has communicated my sentiments to you.” She became as serious as a judge. “Yes, monsieur.” “What is your reply?” “We never reply to these questions!” He puffed with emotion, and went on: “Well, will the day ever come that you will like me?” She smiled. “You big stupid! You are very nice.” “In short, mademoiselle, do you think that, later on, we might--” She hesitated a second; then in a trembling voice she said: “Do you mean to marry me when you say that? For on no other condition, you know.” “Yes, mademoiselle!” “Well, that's all right, Monsieur Piquedent!” It was thus that these two silly creatures promised marriage to each other through the trick of a young scamp. But I did not believe that it was serious, nor, indeed, did they, perhaps. “You know, I have nothing, not four sous,” she said. He stammered, for he was as drunk as Silenus: “I have saved five thousand francs.” She exclaimed triumphantly: “Then we can set up in business?” He became restless. “In what business?” “What do I know? We shall see. With five thousand francs we could do many things. You don't want me to go and live in your boarding school, do you?” He had not looked forward so far as this, and he stammered in great perplexity: “What business could we set up in? That would not do, for all I know is Latin!” She reflected in her turn, passing in review all her business ambitions. “You could not be a doctor?” “No, I have no diploma.” “Or a chemist?” “No more than the other.” She uttered a cry of joy. She had discovered it. “Then we'll buy a grocer's shop! Oh! what luck! we'll buy a grocer's shop. Not on a big scale, of course; with five thousand francs one does not go far.” He was shocked at the suggestion. “No, I can't be a grocer. I am--I am--too well known: I only know Latin, that is all I know.” But she poured a glass of champagne down his throat. He drank it and was silent.