human
You are not to leave me, please, M. a Clive--seeing that I came expressly to find you.
gpt
You do me great honour, mademoiselle. And Dominique? he added.
human
Was he also coming in search of me?
gpt
Dominique Guyon is tiresome, she said.
human
At times, as you have heard, he speaks with too much freedom to my father; but it is the freedom of old service. The Guyons have farmed Boisveyrac for our family since first the Seigniory was built. She seemed about to say more, but checked herself, and stood smoothing an arm of the tunic upon the gun.
gpt
Ah, here is Felicite! she exclaimed, as a stout middle-aged woman came bustling along the terrace towards them.
human
You have kept me waiting, Felicite. And, good heavens! what is that you carry? Did I not tell you that I would get Jeremie to find me a tunic from the stores? See, I have one already.
gpt
But this is not from the stores, mademoiselle! panted Felicite, as she came to a halt.
human
It appears that monsieur brought his tunic with him--Jeremie told me he had seen it hanging by his bed in the sick ward--and here it is, see you! She displayed it triumphantly, spreading its skirts to the sunshine.
gpt
A trifle soiled! but it will save us all the trouble in the world with the measurements--eh, mademoiselle?
human
Nevertheless you shall measure monsieur. Have you the tapes? Good: give me one, with the blue chalk, and I will check off your measurements.
gpt
Do not be shy of me, monsieur, she encouraged him affably.
human
You are a hero, and I myself am the mother of eight, which is in its way heroic. There should be a good understanding between us. Raise your arms a little, pray, while I take first of all the measure of your chest.
gpt
Thirty-eight, repeated Mademoiselle Diane, puckering up her lips and beginning to measure off the _pouces_ across the breast and back of Sergeant Barboux's tunic.
human
Thirty-eight, did you say?
gpt
Thirty-eight, mademoiselle. We must remember that these brave defenders of ours sometimes pad themselves a little; it will be nothing amiss if you allow for forty. Eh, monsieur? Felicite laughed up in John's face.
human
But you find some difficulty, mademoiselle. Can I help you?
gpt
I thank you--it is all right,
human
Waist, twenty-nine, Felicite continued.
gpt
One might even say twenty-eight, only monsieur is drawing in his breath.
human
Where are the scissors, Felicite?
gpt
The scissors? Of a certainty now I brought them--but the sight of that heathen Ojibway, when he gave me the tunic, was enough to make any decent woman faint! I shook like an aspen, if you will credit me, all the way across the drill-ground, and perhaps the scissors . . . no, indeed, I cannot find them . . . but if mademoiselle will excuse me while I run back for another pair. . . .