"We'll take a carriage at Vincennes. I have some money, for Monsieur Malberg gave me twenty francs; there's a fine man for you!" "Why take a carriage? we can go faster on foot." "Oh, no! not much! and even if we could, is it worth while to use ourselves up and arrive in Paris sick, or to be sick to-morrow? And besides, what hurry is there now? You are sure to find her,--she won't fly away." "Ah! you are not in love, Chicotin! you don't know what it is to go back to the girl you love; and it seems to me that I have been away from her for years." "Ah! there's a coucou.--I say, driver, two seats for Paris!" "On the box, if that suits you?" "I should say so; we adore the box." The two friends mounted to the driver's seat. Each moment Georget was tempted to seize the whip and lash the horse, which did not go fast enough to suit him. The driver defended his horse and his whip, and Chicotin's hands were full in trying to keep peace on their seat. At last they arrived in Paris, and Georget said to his friend: "Go to the wine-shop on the corner of Faubourg du Temple, and wait there for me; then we'll have supper. Au revoir." And he disappeared like a flash from the eyes of his friend, who said to himself: "Oh! run as much as you please now; I have no desire to follow you, for I don't propose to ruin my liver." Georget was not at all anxious that his comrade should go with him to find Violette; when one has been parted for a long while from the girl he loves, when one has been at odds with her, one desires to see her again without witnesses; secrecy, aye, and silence, must preside at that interview, for one speaks with the eyes as much as with the voice, and any witness is a nuisance at such a blissful moment. Georget drew near the Chateau d'Eau. It was flower market day, and although the weather was already a little cold, there were still enough people on the boulevard for the young man to approach without being seen by Violette. He spied her at last, but there were two ladies in front of her, selecting bouquets. So that he was fain to be content to look at her, to devour her with his eyes. He drew nearer and nearer, keeping behind her customers. Suddenly, as she raised her eyes, the young flower girl saw Georget standing like a statue and gazing at her as a repentant sinner gazes at a Madonna. Violette blushed and turned pale in quick succession. But her young friend's eyes were so expressive, they implored her forgiveness so eloquently, that the flower girl bestowed her sweetest glance upon him, and being unable as yet to speak to him, began to cover with kisses a small bunch of violets, which she then proceeded to drop on the ground, and which was almost instantly pressed against Georget's lips. At last the customers went away, and Georget was able to approach. "How happy I am to see you again, Violette! oh, how long the time has seemed to me while away from you!" "And to me too, Georget."