lessly and
graciously at Gazonal.

"Yes, madame," replied the countryman, dazzled by such rapid success.

"But Massol will be there," said Bixiou.

"Well, what of that?" returned Jenny. "Come, we must part, my treasures;
I must go to the theatre."

Gazonal gave his hand to the actress, and led her to the citadine which
was waiting for her; as he did so he pressed hers with such ardor that
Jenny Cadine exclaimed, shaking her fingers: "Take care! I haven't any
others."

When the three friends got back into their own vehicle, Gazonal
endeavoured to seize Bixiou round the waist, crying out: "She bites!
You're a fine rascal!"

"So women say," replied Bixiou.

At half-past eleven o'clock, after the play, another citadine took the
trio to the house of Mademoiselle Seraphine Sinet, better known under
the name of Carabine,--one of those pseudonyms which famous lorettes
take, or which are given to them; a name which, in this instance, may
have referred to the pigeons she had killed.

Carabine, now become almost a necessity for the banker du Tillet, deputy
of the Left, lived in a charming house in the rue Saint-Georges. In
Paris there are many houses the destination of which never varies; and
the one we now speak of had already seen seven careers of courtesans.
A broker had brought there, about the year 1827, Suzanne du Val-Noble,
afterwards Madame Gaillard. In that house the famous Esther caused the
Baron de Nucingen to commit the only follies of his life. Florine, and
subsequently, a person now called in jest "the late Madame Schontz,"
had scintillated there in turn. Bored by his wife, du Tillet bought this
modern little house, and there installed the celebrated Carabine,
whose lively wit and cavalier manners and shameless brilliancy were a
counterpoise to the dulness of domestic life, and the toils of finance
and politics.

Whether du Tillet or Carabine were at home or not at home, supper was
served, and splendidly served, for ten persons every day. Artists, men
of letters, journalists, and the habitues of the house supped there when
they pleased. After supper they gambled. More than one member of
both Chambers came there to buy what Paris pays for by its weight in
gold,--namely, the amusement of intercourse with anomalous untrammelled
women, those meteors of the Parisian firmament who are so difficult to
class. There wit reigns; for all can be said, and all is said. Carabine,
a rival of the no less celebrated Malag