"Faith, no. But what does the name matter? Can't a person assume any name at pleasure? Whether this young woman has told me the truth or not, I won't leave her penniless far from the place to which she is going." "Oho! she hasn't any money, eh?" "Why, she had nothing for dinner but bread." "This is a very excellent find that you've made! So, monsieur, when you left Paris, in order to be prudent and economize, here you are with a woman on your hands barely sixty leagues from Paris!" "Bah! what can you expect? Is it my fault? Come, Bertrand, don't scold; hereafter I'll reflect a little more; meanwhile let us abandon ourselves to our destiny." Auguste returned to the young woman and Bertrand followed him, saying to himself: "I am very much afraid he's incorrigible." The young woman promptly resumed possession of Auguste's arm. "My dear friend," he said to her, "as the diligence has gone off without us, we need not hurry now." "Oh, not at all." "We can even pass a day or two here." "I should like to if it would gratify you." "Then we will consider how we will continue our journey--whether by some chance conveyance, by stage--or even on foot, so that we can admire the country in case it is worthy of admiration." "Whatever will gratify you, my friend." "You see, Bertrand," said Auguste in an undertone, "this little woman is good-nature itself, she seeks only to gratify me." "She doesn't gratify me in the very least, monsieur." "Because you don't choose to be gratified.--By the way, as we are to stay here," continued Auguste, "we will take rooms at this inn. Bertrand, see that rooms are prepared for us." "Yes, monsieur;--and for madame, too?" "That goes without saying.--By the way, as we are under the necessity of economizing, one room will be enough for madame and myself. Isn't that so, my dear love?" "Mon Dieu! yes, if that will gratify you." "By the way, my dear love, you haven't yet told me your name." "My name is Adèle--or Madame Florimont, as you please." "Rather as you please." "Call me Adèle--I shall like that." "Adèle it is." "Madame Florimont!" muttered Bertrand with a shrug; "that's a stage name--she got that in the wings of some theatre." "My name is Auguste, my dear Adèle; for it is right that you should know who I am." "Oh! mon Dieu! it's all one to me!" "I see that you think more of the person than of the title, and that you judge people by their faces; if that method never deceives you, I congratulate you. But it is still light and the weather is fine; the best thing for us to do before supper, I think, is to take a walk. Will you come with us, Bertrand?" "No, lieutenant, I have no desire to walk."