—Not at all! And with that reassurance, the birds started to sing again, the streams to flow, and the violets to perfume the air, just as though the gentleman wasn't there…. Ignoring all this pretty clamour, the Sub-Prefect invoked the spirit of the country fêtes, and, pencil at the ready, began to declaim in his ceremonial voice:
—Gentlemen and constituents….
—Gentlemen and constituents…. said the Sub-Prefect in his ceremonial voice….
A cackle of laughter broke his concentration; he turned round and saw a lone fat woodpecker, perched on his opera hat, looking at him and laughing. The Sub-Prefect shrugged his shoulders and readied himself to continue, but the woodpecker interrupted him again:
—What is the point?
—I beg your pardon! What is the point? said the Sub-Prefect, who was flushing all over, and shooing the cheeky animal away, he resumed even more pompously:
—Gentlemen and constituents….
—Gentlemen and constituents…. once again resumed the Sub-Prefect even more pompously.
Then, the little violets stretched their stems out towards him and kindly asked him:
—Sub-Prefect, can you smell our lovely perfume?