"By no means. What, can it be that you, a medical man, are ignorant of the fact that consumptives eat like ogres?"
"That is all bosh; besides, you are no more a consumptive than I am."
"I haven't more than two years to live, as I know perfectly well. If you wish to satisfy yourself on the point, you only have to examine my lungs."
"No, no," cried Blanche. "This is no hospital, and you disgust me with your medical talk. To table, gentlemen! I will sit opposite Dargental. He isn't here, but I will imagine that he is. Caumont may take a seat on my right, and Puymirol on my left. And now let us partake of the funereal repast."
"Funereal is the very word," said Adhémar. "The invitations we received had mourning borders."
"And the bill of fare also," chimed in George.
"Pierre made a great mistake," remarked Blanche; "such jokes always bring bad luck."
"The fact that he hasn't come is sufficient proof of that. I wonder if he has broken a leg."
"No, indeed! Dargental is too lucky to meet with any such accident. His noble betrothed must have got wind of this breakfast, and have forbidden him to attend it."
"In that case, he would, at least, have warned you."