“Exactly; turned grocer.”
“I know; Rue des Lombards?”
“Somewhere thereabouts, or Rue des Arcis.”
“I will find it, monsieur—I will find it.”
“You will say a thousand kind things to him, on my part, and ask him to come and dine with me before I set out for La Fere.”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Good-might, Raoul!”
“Monsieur, I see you wear an order I never saw you wear before; accept my compliments.”
“The Fleece!—that is true. A bauble, my boy, which no longer amuses an old child like myself. Good-night, Raoul!”