"Well, Turlupin, since that's the name they give him at the theatre, and by which he's also known in the city. He does not make one melancholy. He came with that other who plays with him, and acts, they say, the old men, and delivers the prologues which precede the pieces." "That's Gautier-Garguille?" "Yes, monsieur, that's his name. He wanted to be shaved, bathed and have his hair dressed; but as you were not here, one of them played the barber and shaved his comrade; then the other took the comb and soapball and rendered him the same service. I wished at first to prevent them, but they wouldn't listen to me; if they didn't make me sit in the shop and talk downright nonsense about scent and soap. Some people who in passing had recognized Turlupin and his companion stopped before the shop; presently the crowd grew dense, and when they wanted to leave they could not find a way through; but you know Turlupin is never embarrassed, and, having uselessly begged the curious to let them pass, he went into the back shop and brought a bucketful of water, which he emptied entirely upon the crowd. Then you can imagine, monsieur, the excitement, the shouts of everybody. Turlupin and Gautier-Garguille profited by the confusion to make their escape." "And Blanche," said the barber, who appeared to listen impatiently to old Marguerite's story,--"I hope that she was not downstairs when these merry-andrews attracted such a crowd about my house." "No, monsieur, no; you know very well that Mademoiselle Blanche seldom comes down to the shop, and never when there is anybody there. Today, as you were away, she did not leave her room, as you had advised her." "That's well; that's very well," said the barber. Then he drew near the fire, supporting one of his elbows on the table, and appeared to fall again into reflection without listening to the chatter of his servant, which continued as if her master were paying the greatest attention to her.