He was the
manager of the _Salle de Conde_. Presently Madame John returned with a
little bundle, and they hurried off together.
And now what did this mean? Why, by any one of ordinary acuteness the
matter was easily understood, but, to tell the truth, Kristian Koppig
was a trifle dull, and got the idea at once that some damage was being
planned against 'Tite Poulette. It made the gentle Dutchman miserable
not to be minding his own business, and yet--
"But the woman certainly will not attempt"--said he to himself--"no, no!
she cannot." Not being able to guess what he meant, I cannot say whether
she could or not. I know that next day Kristian Koppig, glancing eagerly
over the "_Ami des Lois_," read an advertisement which he had always
before skipped with a frown. It was headed, "_Salle de Conde_," and,
being interpreted, signified that a new dance was to be introduced, the
_Danse de Chinois_, and that _a young lady_ would follow it with the
famous "_Danse du Shawl_."
It was the Sabbath. The young man watched the opposite window steadily
and painfully from early in the afternoon until the moon shone bright;
and from the time the moon shone bright until Madame John!--joy!--Madame
John! and not 'Tite Poulette, stepped through the wicket, much dressed
and well muffled, and hurried off toward the _Rue Conde_.
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