The sheep gave a second bleat, and then a third,
and Rosythe, red in the face and apparently choking, turned and fled
to the corridor.
Madame Planchet drew me apart and said: "Meester Billee, tell me
something. Ees eet true that thees gentleman ees a healer? He takes
away the pains?"
"He did it for me," I answered.
"He ees vairy handsome, eh, Meester Billee?"
"Yes, that is true."
"I have an idea; eet ees a wondair." She turned to my friend.
"Meester Carpentair, they tell me that you heal the pains. I think
eet would be a vairy fine thing eef you would come to my parlor and
attend the ladies while I give them the permanent wave, and while I
skeen them, and make them the dimples and the sweet smiles. They
suffer so, the poor dears, and eef you would seet and hold their
hands, they would love eet, they would come every day for eet, and
you would be famous, and you would be reech. You would meet--oh,
such lovely ladies! The best people in the ceety come to my beauty
parlors, and they would adore you, Meester Carpentair--what do you
say to eet?"
It struck me as curious, as I looked back upon it; Madame Planchet
so far had not heard the sound of Carpenter's voice.
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