"Monsieur Bobinet, I believe?"
Monsieur Bobinet, who was very bald, very cross, and very stout, cast an irritable glance into the room, but, seeing so many people, drew back and said:--
"Yes, that is my name, Monsieur. I lodge on the fourth floor...."
"But pray walk in, Monsieur Bobinet," said Müller, opening the door still wider and bowing still more profoundly.
"Monsieur," returned the fourth-floor lodger, "I--I only come to complain...."
"Whatever the occasion of this honor, Monsieur," pursued the student, with increasing politeness, "we cannot suffer you to remain on the landing. Pray do us the favor to walk in."
"Oh, walk in--pray walk in, Monsieur Bobinet," echoed Jules, Gustave, and Adrien, all together.
The fourth-floor lodger hesitated; took a step forward; thought, perhaps, that, since we were all so polite, he would do his best to conciliate us; and, glancing down nervously at his dressing-gown and slippers, said:--
"Really, gentlemen, I should have much pleasure, but I am not prepared...."
"Don't mention it, Monsieur Bobinet," said Müller. "We are delighted to receive you. Allow me to disembarrass you of your candle."