"Tiens!" said Müller, reflectively. "We have but one franc left. One franc, two sous, and a centime. Vive la France!"
"And you have actually asked that wretched old woman and her niece to dinner!"
"And I have actually solicited that excellent and admirable woman, Madame Marotte, relict of the late lamented Jacques Marotte, umbrella maker, of number one hundred and two, Rue du Faubourg St. Denis, and her beautiful and accomplished niece, Mademoiselle Marie Charpentier, to honor us with their company this evening. Dis-donc, what shall we give them for dinner?"
"Precisely what you invited them to, I should guess--the fish we caught this afternoon."
"Agreed. And what else?"
"Say--a dish of invisible greens, and a phoenix à la Marengo."
"You are funny, mon cher."
"Then, for fear I should become too funny--good afternoon."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I have no mind to dine first, and be kicked out of doors afterwards. It is one of those aids to digestion that I can willingly dispense with."