bout the beginning of this winter, Frederick and Deslauriers were chatting by the fireside, once more reconciled by the fatality of their nature, which made them always reunite and be friends again.
Frederick briefly explained his quarrel with Madame Dambreuse, who had married again, her second husband being an Englishman.
Deslauriers, without telling how he had come to marry Mademoiselle Roque, related to his friend how his wife had one day eloped with a singer. In order to wipe away to some extent the ridicule that this brought upon him, he had compromised himself by an excess of governmental zeal in the exercise of his functions as prefect. He had been dismissed. After that, he had been an agent for colonisation in Algeria, secretary to a pasha, editor of a newspaper, and canvasser for advertisements, his latest employment being the office of settling disputed cases for a manufacturing company.
As for Frederick, having squandered two thirds of his means, he was now living like a citizen of comparatively humble rank.
Then they questioned each other about their friends.
Martinon was now a member of the Senate.
Hussonnet occupied a high position, in which he was fortunate enough to have all the theatres and entire press dependent upon him.
Cisy, given up to religion, and the father of eight children, was living in the château of his ancestors.
Pellerin, after turning his hand to Fourrièrism, homœopathy, table-turning, Gothic art, and humanitarian painting, had become a photographer; and he was to be seen on every dead wall in Paris, where he was represented in a black coat with a very small body and a big head.
"And what about your chum Sénécal?" asked Frederick.