"Come, come, mesdemoiselles, we must work and not idle so; here's a wedding dress that must be done to-morrow; Madame Dumanchon has promised it." "It seems to me, we work well enough, mademoiselle; we don't take our eyes off our work. What more do you expect us to do? We haven't got twenty fingers!" "That's all right, Mademoiselle Augustine; do you think I don't see you laughing and looking at Euphémie, who can't do anything but laugh? Humph! how stupid it is to laugh all the time, at the least thing--and often without knowing why!" "I never laugh without knowing what I'm laughing at, mademoiselle! You're mistaken; I know very well what I'm laughing at." "Well, tell us what it was that amused you so just now." "Just now? why, I looked up and saw Jujules gaping and trying to sneeze at the same time; and she made up such an absurd face! Ha! ha! ha! she looked exactly like the milkwoman's donkey at the corner of the street." "I, look like a donkey!" "Hush, Potage, you haven't got the floor! I belch it from you, as an ancient orator said." "Oh! Mademoiselle Laura, for heaven's sake, be a little more decent in your language; you often say things that ought not be said in a workroom of young ladies; Madame Dumanchon don't like it, and she holds me responsible." "What's that? what are you singing to us? You accuse me of being indecent just because I say: 'I belch it from you'! That's a little rough, on my word! if you read the least bit of history, you'd know that anecdote, which isn't the least bit immoral, Mademoiselle Frotard; and for all you're so squeamish to-day, I've heard you sometimes fire words at us--I don't know where you picked 'em up, but they were a little tough." "I, fire words at you!--Oh! if I went to the Bal Saint-Georges, like you, I might learn some very pretty things; but I defy anyone to say they ever saw me in such places." "It's just as well you don't go; what would you do there? you probably wouldn't be invited to dance! and that would make you sick. By the way, let me tell you that the Bal Saint-Georges is a very nice place; the company there's a very good sort, and I pride myself on being one of the most regular attendants at these Ball-Clubs, as the wrinkled old _gentlemen_ call 'em, who go there to dance the _anglaise_ and other national jigs." "Where's the piece of velvet I just put down here? Have any of you taken it, mesdemoiselles?" "You've got it in your dress." "So I have; great heaven! what was I thinking about?" "Ha! ha! she sticks things in her bosom and then goes looking for 'em! She'll end by looking for her nose." "And she won't find it; she's flat-nosed." "Ha! ha! ha!" "Good! there goes Euphémie again!" "Bless my soul! how can I help laughing, when you say such silly things?" "Look at Elina--she don't laugh, and she don't keep her tongue clacking; so she gets ahead with her skirt." "Oh! Elina's preoccupied; she's been very pensive for some time; that's why she don't talk."