HOW A GREAT LADY LOVED IN THE YEAR 1586.
The whistles which Ernanton had heard were really his signal. Thus, when the young man reached the door, he found Dame Fournichon on the threshold waiting for her customers with a smile, which made her resemble a mythological goddess painted by a Flemish painter, and in her large white hands she held a golden crown, which another hand, whiter and more delicate, had slipped in, in passing.
She stood before the door, so as to bar Ernanton's passage.
"What do you want?" said she to him.
"Were not three whistles given from one of those windows just now?"
"Yes."
"Well, they were to summon me."
"You?"
"Yes."
"On your honor?"
"As a gentleman, Dame Fournichon."
"Enter, then, monsieur, enter."
And happy at having a client after her own heart, fit
