For his support that morning. Jean Guettard
Turned on his threshold, growling like a bear.
“You owe me nothing. I believed my vote
Was right, or else you never should have had it.
Pray do not think I liked you.”
A grim door
Opened and closed like iron in the face
Of his late friend and now indignant foe;
To whom no less, if he had needed it,
Guettard would still have given his own last sou.