“Gentlemen, I will not detain you.”
With the awkward gait of a great winged bird when it walks, he returned to his private apartments; and the ministers went out, one after the other, through the long suite of rooms, beneath the solemn gaze of the ushers. The marshal who was the Minister of War held out his cigar-case to the Keeper of the Seals.
“Monsieur Delarbre, shall we take a little walk outside? I want to stretch my legs.”
Whilst they were both walking down the Rue de Rivoli, by the railing that borders the Terrasse des Feuillants:
“Speaking of cigars,” said the marshal, “I only like very dry one-sou cigars. The others seem like sweetmeats to me. Don’t you know …”
He cut short his thought, then:
“This Pélisson that you were talking about just now in the Council, isn’t he a little dried up, swarthy man, who was sous-préfet at Saint-Dié five years ago?”
Delarbre replied that Pélisson had indeed been sous-préfet in the Vosges.
“So I said to myself: I knew Pélisson. And I remember Madame Pélisson very well. I sat next to her at dinner at Saint-Dié, when I went there for the unveiling of a monument. Don’t you know …”
“What kind of woman is she?” asked Delarbre.