And M. de Cisy, who devoted his attention to literature, was astonished at not seeing on Frederick's table some of those new physiological studies—the physiology of the smoker, of the angler, of the man employed at the barrier.
They went on irritating him to such an extent that he felt a longing to shove them out by the shoulders.
"But they are making me quite stupid!" And then he drew Dussardier aside, and wished to know whether he could do him any service.
The honest fellow was moved. He answered that his post of cashier entirely sufficed for his wants.
After that, Frederick led Deslauriers into his own apartment, and, taking out of his escritoire two thousand francs:
"Look here, old boy, put this money in your pocket. 'Tis the balance of my old debts to you."
"But—what about the journal?" said the advocate. "You are, of course, aware that I spoke about it to Hussonnet."
And, when Frederick replied that he was "a little short of cash just now," the other smiled in a sinister fashion.
After the liqueurs they drank beer, and after the beer, grog; and then they lighted their pipes once more. At last they left, at five o'clock in the evening, and they were walking along at each others' side without speaking, when Dussardier broke the silence by saying that Frederick had entertained them in excellent style. They all agreed with him on that point.
Then Hussonnet remarked that his luncheon was too heavy. Sénécal found fault with the trivial character of his household arrangements. Cisy took the same view. It was absolutely devoid of the "proper stamp."