But she always recollected him kindly. They had both enjoyed themselves
so much at the expense of that fool of a La Faloise! They would never
have thought of seeing each other again if the delight of fooling such
a perfect idiot had not egged them on! It seemed an awfully good joke
to kiss each other under his very nose. They cut a regular dash with his
coin; they would send him off full speed to the other end of Paris in
order to be alone and then when he came back, they would crack jokes
and make allusions he could not understand. One day, urged by the
journalist, she bet that she would smack his face, and that she did the
very same evening and went on to harder blows, for she thought it a good
joke and was glad of the opportunity of showing how cowardly men were.
She called him her "slapjack" and would tell him to come and have his
smack! The smacks made her hands red, for as yet she was not up to the
trick. La Faloise laughed in his idiotic, languid way, though his eyes
were full of tears. He was delighted at such familiarity; he thought it
simply stunning.
One night when he had received sundry cuffs and was greatly excited:
"Now, d'you know," he said, "you ought to marry me.
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