the difference; he never notices anything, not even what he eats."

"I wonder where the old heathen can have gone?" said Mme. Vauquer,
setting the plates round the table.

"Who knows? He is up to all sorts of tricks."

"I have overslept myself," said Mme. Vauquer.

"But madame looks as fresh as a rose, all the same."

The door bell rang at that moment, and Vautrin came through the
sitting-room, singing loudly:

"'Tis the same old story everywhere,
A roving heart and a roving glance . .

"Oh! Mamma Vauquer! good-morning!" he cried at the sight of his
hostess, and he put his arm gaily round her waist.

"There! have done----"

"'Impertinence!' Say it!" he answered. "Come, say it! Now, isn't that
what you really mean? Stop a bit, I will help you to set the table.
Ah! I am a nice man, am I not?

"For the locks of brown and the golden hair
A sighing lover . . .

"Oh! I have just seen something so funny----