“That's a very good joke, too! Am I to bother my brains about a devil-dodger? At any rate, do me the favor of not ever again having such an old fogy to dinner. Confound his impudence!”
“But, my friend, remember his sacred character.”
Joseph Mouradour interrupted him:
“Yes, I know. We must treat them like girls who get roses for being well behaved! That's all right, my boy! When these people respect my convictions, I will respect theirs!”
This was all that happened that day.
Next morning Madame de Meroul, on entering her drawing-room, saw lying on the table three newspapers which made her draw back in horror, “Le Voltaire,” “La République Française,” and “La Justice.”
Presently Joseph Mouradour, still in his blue blouse, appeared on the threshold, reading “L'Intransigéant” attentively. He exclaimed:
“Here is a splendid article by Rochefort. That fellow is marvelous.”
He read the article in a loud voice, laying so much stress on its most striking passages that he did not notice the entrance of his friend.
M. de Meroul had a paper in each hand: “Le Gaulois” for himself and “Le Clarion” for his wife.