"Nonsense! I have been told of several people who were entirely cured; and I remember now--it was syrup of _Boubee_ that he told you to take." "That is quite possible." "I beg you, monsieur, take some of it; even if it should do nothing but lessen the pain, would that not be a great gain?" "As you insist upon it, I will take some." "If you are willing, monsieur, I won't stay long in my booth to-day, and I will bring you some in a little while when I come home." "No, no, my little neighbor, I won't have it; for you never tell me the price of things; you manage so that they cost me almost nothing. But I don't propose to have that, and I shall be angry if you go on acting in that way; I shall be obliged to deprive myself of the pleasure of seeing you." "Oh! it wouldn't do any good for you to forbid me to come, monsieur; I should come all the same!" Violette said this with such heartfelt earnestness that Roncherolle felt the tears gather in his eyes. He pressed the girl's hand and replied in a cheerful tone: "I will obey you, neighbor; come, Chicotin, my groom, come here." "Here I am, bourgeois." "Go to the druggist's on the corner of the boulevard, and ask for some syrup of Boubee. Will you remember that name?" "I should say so; it isn't hard to remember. Syrup of Poupee." "Boubee, you idiot! not Poupee." "Oh! very good." "Wait; I prefer to write it for you." "On the whole, that will be better; my tongue might slip again." "Here you are; and take that two-franc piece there--upon my table; I am inclined to believe that that will be enough." "Let us hope so! a paltry syrup--that can't cost so much as that; for two francs you could get a lot of molasses.--I will go right away, bourgeois." "Aren't you going to your stand, my little neighbor?" Roncherolle asked Violette, who was stooping in front of the fire, trying to make the two sticks burn by putting under them all the old papers that were lying about the room. "In a minute, neighbor; I will wait until Chicotin comes back." "And your love-affairs, my child, how do they come on? You are fully reconciled with your young lover now, I hope?" "Yes, monsieur. Oh! Georget loves me dearly; he comes to see me every day at my booth, and I am very happy, except when he frightens me." "What's that? your lover frightens you?" "You will understand, monsieur; Georget has never forgotten the abominable remarks that that Monsieur Jericourt made about me, and the trap he led me into; but, monsieur, you don't know--Georget says that he will kill Monsieur Jericourt." "He is right; he is a fine fellow; in his place, I would do the same." "But I don't want him to fight; for, after all, monsieur, the man who is in the right doesn't always win; and if Georget were killed, I should be very unhappy." "You are right; that boy must not take the risk; he is so young--eighteen, did you tell me?" "Yes, monsieur." "Then he probably doesn't know anything about the sword or the pistol?"