"Oh, no! But you don't see that, when I move the cards about, I always throw the one that's on top, although I make believe to throw the one on the bottom. That's how they gull the peasant, who thinks he hasn't taken his eyes off _biribi_. But if by any chance the pigeon guesses right, just when he's going to put his hand on the card which is really _biribi_, a confederate, who is always on hand, says to him: 'Not that one, my man; the other one, to the left. I am sure of it, and, to prove it, I'll bet a hundred sous.' The peasant is persuaded by the confederate's confidence, he takes up the card on which the other has bet five francs, and he is _smoked_.--I say there, you man of sighs, come and play _biribi_ with us a while." Paul glanced at the cards and shook his head. "I don't care for card playing," he said. "We must kill time, especially when we've nothing to do. Come and play for a glass of beer--that won't ruin you." "I don't want to play." "Humph! what a poor cuss that fellow is!" said Jean Ficelle, turning back to Sans-Cravate. "He'll never spend a sou with his friends. I don't call that being a man, myself." "Paul is more sensible, wiser, than we are; he saves his money and he does well." "Saves his money--hum! I don't feel so sure what he does with his money; he gets mighty little good out of it. He's pale as an egg, and his jacket's all patched at the elbows. _Dame!_ perhaps he spends it all to seduce his girl. Women aren't to be caught with nothing but sighs. They like to have money spent on 'em--dressmakers, especially. They say that they have to have dinners and theatre tickets and jewelry. Little Elina probably spends it all for him. She has the look of a sly little coquette----" On hearing Elina's name, Paul ran up to Jean Ficelle, seized his left arm, and shook it roughly. "What's that you say?" he exclaimed. "You dare to talk about Mademoiselle Elina! If I am not mistaken, you had the effrontery to make remarks about that young lady! Be careful, Jean! I am not ill-tempered; but if you should be unlucky enough to insult her, why, I would stamp on you as I do on these cards!" "Let alone of me, I say! Will you let alone of me? Stupid fool--to walk on my cards!" "A terrible calamity! A fine business for a messenger, isn't it? to learn thieves' and blacklegs' tricks, to study ways of cheating other people! Instead of handling cards so skilfully, you would do much better to mend your _crochets_ and your saw. But you prefer to play cards!" "Ah, ça! isn't it about time for the fellow to stop? What airs he puts on! and why, I should like to know! A miserable foundling, with no father nor mother--and he undertakes to preach to other people! Go and hunt up your parents--that would be a better business for you."