The girl clutched his arm, and said in suppressed tones, "Where is
Gustave?"

"Gustave Rameau? I have no idea. Do you never see him now?"

"Never,--perhaps I never shall see him again; but when you do meet him,
say that Julie owes to him her livelihood. An honest livelihood,
Monsieur. He taught her to love verses--told her how to recite them.
I am engaged at this cafe--you will find me here the same hour every day,
in case--in case--You are good and kind, and will come and tell me that
Gustave is well and happy even if he forgets me. _Au revoir_! Stop, you
do look, my poor Frederic, as if--as if--pardon me, Monsieur Lemercier,
is there anything I can do? Will you condescend to borrow from me? I am
in funds."

Lemercier at that offer was nearly moved to tears. Famished though he
was, he could not, however, have touched that girl's earnings.

"You are an angel of goodness, Mademoiselle! Ah, how I envy Gustave
Rameau! No, I don't want aid. I am always a--_rentier_."

"_Bien_! and if you see Gustave, you will not forget."

"Rely on me. Come away," he said to De Mauleon; "I don't want to hear
that girl repeat the sort of bombast the poets indite nowadays. It is
fustian; and that girl may have a brain of feather, but she has a heart
of gold."

"True," said Victor, as they regained the street. "I overheard what she
said to you. What an incomprehensible thing is a woman! how more