"Very pretty! very pretty, on my word! I never saw anything better on the first floor! Ah! this apartment of mine is beyond price!" Her toilet completed, the young woman set out her supper on a small table; she laid two covers. "The deuce!" muttered Auguste; "the company that she expects consists of but one person; the party will be no larger than those in the private rooms at the Tournebride. But no matter! let us wait and see what happens." A young man in a blouse and otter-skin cap arrived and was received with a joyful exclamation, to which he replied by a kiss so heartily bestowed that Dalville fancied that he heard the report; and he scratched his ear, muttering: "The devil! the devil! shall I keep on looking? Why not? I shall at least know what to expect." The supper was on the table; but the gallant in the otter-skin cap had more love than appetite. He continued to snatch kisses, dallying the while with the girl, whom he seemed inclined to lead away from the table rather than toward it. "The deuce!" said Auguste, "it's evident that people make love under the eaves no less than on first floors. This fellow in a jacket seems to know as much about it as the most skilful boudoir seducer. The deuce! the deuce!" And Auguste finally left the window in a pet, exclaiming: "I don't need to see any more; these young women who invite their best friends to supper ought to have their curtains so arranged as to reach to the top of the window." Auguste walked about his apartment for a moment or two, but he soon made the circuit of it. Bertrand was in bed and asleep. As he scrutinized his new abode, Auguste noticed the absence of several articles of furniture to which he had become accustomed, but which had not been taken up to the fifth floor, where they had retained only what was absolutely necessary. Dalville realized that that sacrifice was indispensable; but his brow darkened, he threw himself into a chair, and unpleasant thoughts assailed him. It was very late, when, in an effort to dispel those thoughts, he returned to his window. There was no longer a light in the young lace-maker's window, and Auguste was not sorry, for he had seen enough in that direction. He looked toward the window where he had seen an attractive blonde; and there, although he could see a glimmer of light, a dilapidated curtain, torn in several places, prevented him from looking into the room. After looking about at the other houses nearby, thinking of _Le Diable Boiteux_, of which that picture reminded him, Auguste, having no Asmodeus to assist him to see what was taking place under the roofs, was about to leave his window. Twelve o'clock had struck long before, the most profound silence reigned in the street; the place that is resplendent with light and movement at nine o'clock is often dark and gloomy a few hours later.