Adieu.
"For the space of nearly two years we have made you happy.We bear you no grudge for that. "Signed: BLACHEVELLE. FAMUEIL. LISTOLIER. FELIX THOLOMYES.
"Postscriptum.
The dinner is paid for."
The four young women looked at each other.
Favourite was the first to break the silence.
"Well!" she exclaimed, "it's a very pretty farce, all the same."
"It is very droll," said Zephine.
"That must have been Blachevelle's idea," resumed Favourite."It makes me in love with him.
No sooner is he gone than he is loved.This is an adventure, indeed."
"No," said Dahlia; "it was one of Tholomyes' ideas.
That is evident.
"In that case," retorted Favourite, "death to Blachevelle, and long live Tholomyes!"
"Long live Tholomyes!" exclaimed Dahlia and Zephine.
And they burst out laughing.
Fantine laughed with the rest.
An hour later, when she had returned to her room, she wept.It was her first love affair, as we have said; she had given herself to this Tholomyes as to a husband, and the poor girl had a child.
A MERRY END TO MIRTH
When the young girls were left alone, they leaned two by two on the window-sills, chatting, craning out their heads, and talking from one window to the other.
They saw the young men emerge from the Cafe Bombarda arm in arm.The latter turned round, made signs to them, smiled, and disappeared in that dusty Sunday throng which makes a weekly invasion into the Champs-Elysees.