"What! You think the king would give you a hundred crowns for my poor?"
"I am sure of it."
"On your word of honour?"
"On my faith as a gentleman!"
"My friend, that decides me then."
"Thanks! You would not come for my sake, but you will for your poor. It seems to be better worth being one of your poor parishioners than your friend!"
"I do not say so, my dear Antoine; but you know a curé who deserts his post must have a good excuse."
"An excuse?... Oh! if you slept away, I do not say...."
"What! if I slept away!" exclaims the Abbé Rémy, terrified. "Do you mean, then, to make me stop away the night?... Postillion! hi! postillion!"