Then he pressed Paul's hand, and, turning toward Andermatt, who had come in after him:
"I say, pearl of brothers-in-law, of husbands, and of friends, can you tell me exactly what an old ass dead on a road is worth?"
[CHAPTER XII.]
A Betrothal
Andermatt and Doctor Latonne were walking in front of the Casino on a terrace adorned with vases made of imitation marble.
"He no longer salutes me," the doctor was saying, referring to his brother-physician Bonnefille. "He is over there in his pit, like a wild-boar. I believe he would poison our springs, if he could!"
Andermatt, with his hands behind his back and his hat—a small round hat of gray felt—thrown back over his neck, so as to let the baldness above his forehead be seen, was deeply plunged in thought. At length he said:
"Oh! in three months the Company will have knuckled under. We might buy it over at ten thousand francs. It is that wretched Bonnefille who is exciting them against me, and who makes them fancy that I will give way. But he is mistaken."
The new inspector returned: "You are aware that they have shut up their Casino since yesterday. They have no one any longer."