My Neighbor Raymond Part 6

"No, monsieur."

But she took her seat at the other end of the couch. Her blushing face and her confusion betrayed a part of her sensations. I myself was embarra.s.sed--think of it! with a flower girl! Indeed, it was just because she was a flower girl that I didn't know where to begin. I give you my word, reader, that I should have made much more rapid progress with a _grande dame_ or a grisette.

"Do you know, Nicette, that you are charming?"

"I have been told so, monsieur."

"You must have many men making love to you?"

"Oh! there's some that try to fool me when they come to buy flowers of me; but I don't listen to 'em."

"Why do you think that they are trying to fool you?"

"Oh! because they're swells--like you."

"So, if I should mention the word _love_ to you, you would think----"

"That you was making fun of me. Pardi! that's plain enough!"

That beginning was not of good augury. No matter, I continued the attack, moving gradually nearer the girl.

"I swear to you, Nicette, that I never make fun of anyone!"

"All men say that!"

"Besides, you are quite pretty enough to arouse a genuine pa.s.sion."

"Yes, a pa.s.sion of a fortnight! Oh! I ain't to be caught in that trap."

"On my honor, you are too pretty for a flower girl."

"Bah! you are joking."

"If you chose, Nicette, you could find something better to do than that."

"No, monsieur, no; I don't want to sell anything but bouquets. Oh! I ain't vain. I refused Beauvisage, who's got money, and who'd have given me calico dresses, caps _a la glaneuse_, and gilt chains; but all those things didn't tempt me. When I don't like a person, nothing can make me change my mind."

She was not covetous; so that it was necessary to win her regard in order to obtain anything from her. I determined to win her regard. But I have this disadvantage when I try to make myself agreeable: I never know what I am saying; that was why I sat for ten minutes without speaking a word to Nicette, contenting myself with frequent profound sighs and an occasional cough, to revive the conversation. But Nicette was very innocent, or perhaps she meant to laugh at me when she said with great sang-froid:

"Have you got a bad cold, monsieur?"

I blushed at my idiocy; the idea of being so doltish and timid with a flower seller! Really, I hardly recognized myself.

And the better to recognize myself, I put my arms about Nicette and tried to draw her into my lap.

"Let go of me, monsieur; let go, I beg you!"

"Why, what harm are we doing, Nicette?"

"I don't want you to squeeze me so tight."

"One kiss, and I'll let you go."

"Just one, all right."

Her consent was necessary, for she was very well able to defend herself; she was strong and could make a skilful use of her hands and knees; and as I was not accustomed to contests of that sort, in which our society ladies give us little practice, I began to think that I should find it difficult to triumph over the girl.

She gave me permission to kiss her, and I made the most of it; trusting in my promise, she allowed me to take that coveted kiss, and offered me her fresh, rosy cheek, still graced with the down of youth and innocence.

But I desired a still greater privilege; I longed to steal from a lovely pair of lips a far sweeter kiss. Nicette tried, but too late, to prevent me. I took one, I took a thousand. Ah! how sweet were those kisses that I imprinted on Nicette's lips! Saint-Preux found Julie's bitter; but I have never detected a trace of bitterness in a pretty woman's kisses; to be sure, I am no Saint-Preux, thank heaven!

A consuming flame coursed through my veins. Nicette shared my emotion; I could tell by the expression of her eyes, by the quivering of her whole frame. I sought to take advantage of her confusion to venture still further; but she repulsed me, she tore herself from my arms, rushed to the door, and was already on the landing, when I overtook her and caught her by her skirt.

"Where in heaven's name are you going, Nicette?"

"I am going away, monsieur."

"What's that?"

"Yes, monsieur, I am going away; I see now that I mustn't pa.s.s the night here in your rooms; I wouldn't have believed that you'd take advantage of my trouble to---- But since I made a mistake, I'm going away."

"Stop, for heaven's sake! Where would you go?"

"Oh! I don't know about that; but it don't make any difference! I see that I'd be safer in the street than alone here with you."

I felt that I deserved that reproach. The girl was virtuous; she had placed herself under my protection without distrust; she had asked me for hospitality, and I was about to take advantage of her helpless plight, to seduce her! That was contemptible behavior. But I may say, in my own justification, that I did not know Nicette, and that, for all the artless simplicity of her language, a young girl who suggests to a man that she pa.s.s the night under his roof certainly lays herself open to suspicion, especially in Paris, where innocent young maids are so rare.

She still held the door ajar, and I did not relax my grasp of her skirt.

I looked in her face, and saw great tears rolling down her cheeks. Poor child! it was I who caused them to fall! She seemed prettier to me than ever; I was tempted to throw myself at her feet and beg her to forgive me. But what! I, on my knees before a street peddler! Do not be alarmed: I did not offend the proprieties to that extent.

"I beg you to remain, Nicette," I said, at last.

"No, monsieur; I made a mistake about you; I must go."

"Listen to me; in the first place, you can't go away from the house alone; at this time of night the concierge opens the door only to those who give their names."

"Oh! but I remember your name; it's Dorsan."

"It isn't enough to give my name; she would know that it wasn't my voice."

"All right; then I'll stay in the courtyard till morning."

"Excellent; everybody will see you; and think of the remarks and t.i.ttle-tattle of all the cooks of the quarter! It's bad enough that that infernal Raymond should have seen you. Come back to my rooms, Nicette; I promise, yes, I swear, to behave myself and not to torment you."

She hesitated; she looked into my face, and doubtless my eyes told her all that was taking place in my mind; for she closed the door of the landing, and smiled at me, saying:

"I believe you, and I'll stay."