And "Ah, monsieur," I remember
Antoinette replied, "that would be impossible, for the sweet lamb
smells of spring flowers, _de son naturel_." Which is true. Her
use of violent perfumes is thus a double offence. "There is
something more serious," said Miss Griggs.
"I can hardly believe there can be anything more serious than
making one's self detestable to one's fellow-creatures," said I.
"Unless it is making one's self too agreeable," said Miss Griggs,
pointedly.
I asked her what she meant.
"I have discovered," she replied, "that Carlotta has been
carrying on a clandestine flirtation with the young man who calls
for orders from the grocer's."
"I am glad it wasn't the butcher's boy," I murmured.
Miss Griggs giggled in a silly way, as if I were jesting. At my
stern request she recovered and unfolded the horrible tale. She
had caught Carlotta kissing her hand to him. She had also seen
him smuggle a three-cornered note between Carlotta's fingers, and
Carlotta had definitely refused to surrender the billet-dour.
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