"I am just leaving him," I replied.
"Well?"
"Yesterday we were only half at variance."
"And now?"
"To-day it is otherwise; we are wholly so."
"Blockhead!" he muttered.
I waved him an adieu with my hand, and ran laughing down the stairs.
As I was returning home I met Bixio on the Pont des Tuileries; he was clad in a blue military coat with red epaulettes and forage cap and had a ball of red horsehair on his shako with stripes of red down his trousers.
"Hullo," I said, "what are you in?"
"In the artillery."