Violette opened the door of the salon, passed through another small room, and opened another door; but in her haste she made a mistake; it was not the door leading to the landing, but she had almost entered the bedroom. Discovering her error, she retraced her steps, and at last found the outer door. Meanwhile Jéricourt had followed and overtaken her, and he tried again to detain her by seizing her dress; but she roughly shook him off, and with a glance that banished any desire to stop her again, she rushed out on the landing and down the stairs, without turning her head; nor did she see a young man who was then standing at his open door, directly opposite Jéricourt’s. This young man, who was no other than little Astianax, uttered a cry of surprise on recognizing the girl, who passed very near him. Having followed her with his eyes as she descended the stairs, he turned toward Jéricourt, who was standing in his doorway, and said: “It is surely she; it’s the pretty flower girl of the Château d’Eau!--I say, neighbor, she came out of your room----” “Why, to be sure; you must have seen her come out.” “Yes, yes, I saw her.--Aha! so the little flower girl comes to see you! The deuce! you’re a lucky man!” “It is true, I am generally lucky with women.” “Is your face inflamed, neighbor, that you are holding your handkerchief over your cheek?” “No, but I have a slight toothache.” “All the same, I confess that I can’t get over it; Mademoiselle Violette coming out of your room! She was very red, and decidedly rumpled too!” “Why--that was the result of our interview.” “Oh, yes! I understand. Gad! you are favored by Venus! The pretty flower girl, who made such a parade of her pride and virtue, and sent me about my business when I made impassioned speeches to her, and snubbed me when I proposed to take her to Saint-Germain by train!” “Let this be a lesson to you, young man; it will teach you that you mustn’t trust the airs these young women assume.--Au revoir, Astianax.” “Au revoir, Joconde! Don Juan! Richelieu!” Jéricourt returned to his room, saying to himself: “Now I am sure of my revenge! Mademoiselle Violette will pay dear for the scratches she gave me!” XVI A DOWNFALL Madame de Grangeville, whose place of abode Chicotin had not been able to ascertain, lived on Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges, in a small apartment on the fourth floor of a recently-constructed house. In houses which have just been finished, and of which the walls have not had time to dry and the paint to lose its odor, apartments are very commonly let to persons who offer to break them in, so to speak. Why are these persons very often lorettes or ballet-dancers out of employment? Probably because those ladies know that very little pains will be taken to seek information about them, and that they will be accepted as tenants with such effects as they choose to bring. Landlords are never exacting with those tenants who are willing to “dry the walls.”