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As to Oyouki, she rushes upon us ten times a day whether we are sleeping or dressing like a whirlwind on a visit, flashing upon us, a very gust of dainty youthfulness and droll gayety a living peal of laughter.
With little shrieks of admiration, they point out to one another the different things, as little by little their shape and form are outlined in black on my paper. Mademoiselle Oyouki is carried away by her admiration, and exclaims, in a burst of enthusiasm: "Anata bakari!"
We also go down to the town, Yves, Chrysantheme, Oyouki and I in order to conduct my mother-in-law, sisters-in-law, and my youthful aunt, Madame Nenufar, to their house.
As to Oyouki, she rushes upon us ten times a day whether we are sleeping or dressing like a whirlwind on a visit, flashing upon us, a very gust of dainty youthfulness and droll gayety a living peal of laughter.
Oyouki will carry a message to her parents, who will shut up our rooms; we shall spend the evening, Yves and I, in roaming about as fancy takes us, without any mousmé dragging at our heels, and shall afterwards regain our own quarters on board the Triomphante, without having the trouble of climbing up that hill.
When we arrive at Diou-djen-dji in the starry night, the music of her 'chamecen', heard from afar, recalls to us her existence; she is studying some vocal duet with Mademoiselle Oyouki, her pupil.
The day before yesterday, M. Sucre, quite upset, Madame Prune, almost swooning, and Mademoiselle Oyouki, bathed in tears, stormed my rooms.
Chrysantheme, Yves, and little Oyouki have struck up a friendship so intimate that it amuses me. I even think that in my home life this intimacy is what affords me the greatest entertainment. They form a contrast which gives rise to the most absurd jokes, and unexpected situations.
Chrysanthème is ready; Oyouki hurries, changes her dress, and, putting on a mouse-colored gray robe, begs me to arrange the bows of her fine sash black satin lined with yellow sticking at the same time in her hair a silver top-knot.
M. Sucre and Madame Prune, my landlord and his wife, two perfectly unique personages recently escaped from the panel of some screen, live below us on the ground floor; and very old they seem to have this daughter of fifteen, Oyouki, who is Chrysantheme's inseparable friend.