Daddy Tantaine began to grow impatient with all this rigmarole. "Come,
tell me what took place," said he angrily.

"Precious little. The young swell didn't seem to care about dirtying his
trotter-cases; he kept slashing about with his cane, and staring at
all the gals. What an ass that masher is! Wouldn't I have liked to have
punched his head! If you ever want to hide him, daddy, please think of
yours truly. He wouldn't stand up to me for five minutes."

"Go on, my lad; go on."

"Well, we had waited half an hour, when all at once a woman came sharp
round the corner, and stops before the masher. Wasn't she a fine gal!
and hadn't she a pair of sparklers! but she had awfully seedy togs on.
But they spoke in whispers."

"So you did not hear what they said?"

"Do you take me for a flat? The gal said, 'Do you
understand?--to-morrow.' Then the swell chap, says he, 'Do you promise?'
and the gal, she answers back, 'Yes, at noon.' Then they parted. She
went off to the Rue Hachette, and the masher tumbled into his wheelbox.
The jarvey cracked his whip, and off they went in a brace of shakes. Now
hand over them five francs."

Daddy Tantaine did not seem surprised at this request, and he gave over
the money to the young loafer, with the words, "When I promise, I pay
down on the nail; but remember Toto Chupin, you'll come to grief one
day. Good-night. Our ways lie in different directions."