Inhisshamefacedandconstrainedway，Mr。TheEnglishmanaskednoquestionofanyone，butwatchedfromhisfrontwindowsandwatchedfromhisbackwindows，andlingeredaboutthePlace，andpeepedinattheBarber’sshop，anddidallthisandmuchmorewithawhistlingandtune-hummingpretenceofnotmissinganything，untiloneafternoonwhenMonsieurMutuel’spatchofsunlightwasinshadow，andwhen，accordingtoallruleandprecedent，hehadnorightwhatevertobringhisredribbonoutofdoors，beholdherehewas，advancingwithhiscapalreadyinhishandtwelvepacesoff！
Mr。TheEnglishmanhadgotasfarintohisusualobjurgationas，\"Whatbu-si-\"whenhecheckedhimself。
\"Ah，itissad，itissad！Helas，itisunhappy，itissad！\"ThusoldMonsieurMutuel，shakinghisgrayhead。
\"Whatbusin-atleast，Iwouldsay，whatdoyoumean，MonsieurMutuel？\"
\"OurCorporal。Helas，ourdearCorporal！\"