"Hold your tongue, young woman!" he said. "What do you know about
Saint-Simonism, antagonism, Fourierism, criticism, heroic enterprise,
or woman's freedom? I'll tell you what they are,--ten francs for each
subscription, Madame Gaudissart."

"On my word of honor, you are going crazy, Gaudissart."

"More and more crazy about _you_," he replied, flinging his hat upon the
sofa.

The next morning Gaudissart, having breakfasted gloriously with Jenny,
departed on horseback to work up the chief towns of the district to
which he was assigned by the various enterprises in whose interests he
was now about to exercise his great talents. After spending forty-five
days in beating up the country between Paris and Blois, he remained
two weeks at the latter place to write up his correspondence and make
short visits to the various market towns of the department. The night
before he left Blois for Tours he indited a letter to Mademoiselle
Jenny Courand. As the conciseness and charm of this epistle cannot be
equalled by any narration of ours, and as, moreover, it proves the
legitimacy of the tie which united these two individuals, we produce
it here:--

"My dear Jenny,--You will lose your wager. Like Napoleon,
Gaudissart the illustrious has his star, but _not_ his Waterloo. I
triumph everywhere. Life insurance has done well. Between Paris
and Blois I lodged two millions. But as I get to the centre of
France heads become infinitely harder and millions correspondingly
scarce. The article Paris keeps up its own little jog-trot. It is
a ring on the finger. With all my well-known cunning I spit these