"Not now. If you are ready to go, we will come back some quieter
day. There are too many people here to-day, and we can't do
anything."

"Well, let us go."

And they disappeared behind a door-curtain into the hall. As soon as
they were in the street Servigny asked: "Well, what do you think of
it?"

"It certainly is interesting, but I fancy the women's side of it
more than the men's."

"Indeed! Those women are the best of the tribe for us. Don't you
find that you breathe the odor of love among them, just as you scent
the perfumes at a hairdresser's?"

"Really such houses are the place for one to go. And what experts,
my dear fellow! What artists! Have you ever eaten bakers' cakes?
They look well, but they amount to nothing. The man who bakes them
only knows how to make bread. Well! the love of a woman in ordinary
society always reminds me of these bake-shop trifles, while the love
you find at houses like the Marquise Obardi's, don't you see, is the
real sweetmeat. Oh! they know how to make cakes, these charming
pastry-cooks. Only you pay five sous, at their shops, for what costs
two sous elsewhere."

"Who is the master of the house just now?" asked Saval.

Servigny shrugged his shoulders, signifying his ignorance.