Just then there was a commotion and a scuffle heard outside, in the lobby, and Angéline's shrill voice raised high.
"That must be the monkeys!" cried Fifi, running out.
Two Italians, each with a robust-looking monkey, were squabbling on the stairs with Angéline. The Italians, each bent on getting in first, had begun a scuffle which was growing perilously near a fight. Neither paid the slightest attention to Angéline's fierce demand that they and their monkeys take themselves off. When Fifi appeared, both of the monkey venders burst into voluble explanations and denunciations. Fifi, however, had lost something of her cool courage. In her heart she was afraid of monkeys, and had not meant to let them get so far as the drawing-room door.
"Ah," she cried to the Italians, thinking to pacify both of them, "here is a franc apiece for your trouble, and take the monkeys away. I don't think either will suit."
"No!" shrieked both of the Italians in chorus. "We have brought our monkeys and Mademoiselle must at least examine them."
This was anything but an agreeable proposition
