Helene.—Papa, why did you dismiss the cabs?
Nonancourt.—Why? Three hundred and seventy-five francs; don't you think that enough? I don't want to spend your dowry on cabbies!
All.—Where are we?
Nonancourt.—Devil get me, if I know ... I followed Bobin...
Bobin.—Not so; Uncle, we were following you!
Vezinet (To Nonancourt).—Why did we have to get up so early? Is there going to be an entertainment?
Nonancourt.—Numbskull!! (Angrily.) Oh, that Fadinard!
Helene.—He told us to go to his house ... in Baudoyer Square . . .
Bobin.—This is a square . . .
Nonancourt.— Is it Baudoyer? That's the question! Vezinet, who is now under his umbrella.) You are from Chaillot, You ought to know. (Shouting.) Is this Baudoyer Square?
Vezinet.—Yes; that's so; fine weather to make peas grow!
Nonancourt (Leaving him suddenly).—With sugar, tartar sauce... (Approaches the sentry box.)
Tardiveau (Sneezing).—At-choo!
Nonancourt.—God bless you! Ah, ha, a sentinel! Pardon me, sentinel, can you direct me to Baudoyer Square?
Tardiveau.—Pass on!
Nonancourt.—Thanks! And not a passerby! Not even a roustabout . . .
Bobin.—At a quarter to one ....
Nonancourt.—Wait, I'll find out. (Knocks at a door.)
Helene.—What are you doing, Papa?
Nonancourt.—We must inquire. I'm told that people of Paris are always glad to direct strangers . . .
A Man (In night cap, and shirt, appears at an upper window).—For heaven's sake, what do you want?
Nonancourt.—Beg pardon, Sir, Baudoyer Square, if you please...
The Man.—Help! Robbers! A mob! Riot! (He pours a bucket of water out of the window, and closes it. Nonancourt sees it coming, and dodges. Vezinet, who is without an umbrella, takes it on his head.)
Vezinet.—Why, I got under a rainspout!
Nonancourt.—He's not of Paris. He's from Marseilles!
Bobin (Who has climbed up, in the back-ground, in order to
