"Behold then our flower girl in the young man's room, which she had entered without suspicion, for a woman had opened the door. But soon he who has been persecuting her with his addresses appears; he is alone with her, he no longer conceals his purpose to triumph over her resistance; the girl sees her danger, summons all her courage, and resists so effectively that the enterprising gentleman receives upon his face the marks of that stout defence--indeed, they have not altogether disappeared yet; he is obliged to let a woman who defends herself so well go her way. You will assume that that was the end of it all; and indeed, it should have been; but no, because that girl was virtuous, because she did not choose to cease to be virtuous, because she had given her heart to another, the gentleman in question deemed it becoming to proclaim everywhere that the pretty flower girl had been his mistress, that she had come to his room of her own free will,--in short, that she was an abandoned girl; he dishonored her in the eyes of all those who loved her. I say that that is dastardly, infamous! and do not you think that so much lying and slander deserve to be punished?" Zizi said nothing because she had guessed the truth; Jericourt bit his lips and also held his peace; but Frefred exclaimed: "This is strange--your story--one would say--where does your pretty flower girl stand?" "Near here, on Boulevard du Chateau d'Eau; you know her perfectly well." "What! is it Violette?" "It is Violette." "Why, in that case, the young man who pretends to have had her favors--is----" "Just so; it is monsieur." Thereupon Jericourt felt called upon to draw himself up and assume an impertinent tone. "Monsieur," said he to Roncherolle, "I do not understand all the absurd stories and fairy-tales which you have been telling us, and which have neither head nor tail; but what seems even more inconceivable is that a man of your age should pose as the knight of flower girls!" "A man of my age, monsieur, knows the world well enough to distinguish the false from the true; and when one can avenge a woman who has been shamelessly defamed by a conceited coxcomb, age makes no difference, monsieur, as I hope to prove to your satisfaction." "Really, I am very condescending to answer you!" retorted Jericourt, throwing himself back and swinging his legs. "Be off with you, monsieur; leave me in peace." "I will be off, monsieur, but with you, I hope." "Oh! that would be amusing! Faith, my dear monsieur, lose your temper if you choose, but I will not fight for a flower girl." "Well! will you fight for this, monsieur?" As he spoke, Roncherolle, who had left his seat and walked toward Jericourt, struck him across the face with his glove.