“So you don’t mean to come to see me, Monsieur Chérubin? Do you know that that is very bad of you, and that you are an ungrateful wretch not to cultivate my acquaintance? You know my address--come and breakfast with me. I get up late, but I give you leave to come very early.” Thus Chérubin was exposed to a rattling fire from a number of fair ones, when Daréna, who had found a way to freshen up his costume, called for him and took him to the Cirque, on Boulevard du Temple. On the road the young man did not fail to tell Daréna all that had happened to him; and he, having listened attentively, said: “It seems to me, my dear fellow, that you are a regular Faublas--all women adore you! And how is it with yourself?” “Oh! I adore them too!” “So you love Madame Célival, eh?” “Why, yes, I think so; I find her very fascinating.” “And the languishing Comtesse Valdieri?” “Oh! I like her very much too.” “And the grisette--otherwise called the linen-draper’s apprentice?” “I think that she’s very nice.” “And Malvina, who dances so well?” “She is very much to my taste.” “Well! if that is so, how do you stand with all these women? Men don’t make any secret of such things among themselves, parbleu!” “How do I stand? Why, no farther ahead than I was.” Daréna roared with laughter, to the great annoyance of Chérubin, and rejoined at last: “Then, my dear fellow, it’s because the will was lacking! and, according to that, I am bound to think that all these ladies have made very little impression on your heart. However, I understand that: salon conquests--grisettes--lorettes--there’s nothing interesting in any of them! Sometimes chance brings us into contact with something better. But here we are at the Cirque.” Chérubin purchased the tickets--Daréna always left that duty to him--and they entered the theatre. “This is a very good place,” said Chérubin, stopping at the entrance to the balcony. But Daréna, who had caught sight of the persons he was looking for in a box, answered: “We shall be more comfortable in a box; besides, it’s better form. Come--let us go in here, for instance.” And Daréna bade the box-opener admit them to the box in which he had recognized Poterne and Mademoiselle Chichette Chichemann. One must have had Daréna’s keen sight to recognize those two individuals, and must have been certain that they were there, for they were perfectly disguised, especially Poterne, who was absolutely unrecognizable. Daréna’s intimate friend had sacrificed the bristly hair that covered his head; he had been shaved, and so closely that he resembled a poodle returning from Pont Neuf. He wore on his nose green goggles, the sides of which were screened by silk of the same color; and he had stuffed something in his mouth, which transformed his hollow cheeks into chubby ones. The change was complete. The false Comte de Globeski was suitably attired in a blue frockcoat with frogs, buttoned to the chin, so that it almost made a cravat unnecessary.