The dealer insisted: “Perhaps you've not nothing but gray ones?”
Chicot dug his hands into his flannel shirt, drew out the ears of a rabbit and declared: “Three francs a pair!”
Then began a long discussion about the price. Two francs sixty-five and the two rabbits were delivered. As the two men were getting up to go, old man Jules, who had been watching them, exclaimed:
“You have something else, but you won't say what.”
Labouise answered: “Possibly, but it is not for you; you're too stingy.”
The man, growing eager, kept asking: “What is it? Something big? Perhaps we might make a deal.”
Labouise, who seemed perplexed, pretended to consult Maillochon with a glance. Then he answered in a slow voice: “This is how it is. We were in the bushes at Eperon when something passed right near us, to the left, at the end of the wall. Mailloche takes a shot and it drops. We skipped on account of the game people. I can't tell you what it is, because I don't know. But it's big enough. But what is it? If I told you I'd be lying, and you know, sister, between us everything's above-board.”
Anxiously the man asked: “Think it's venison?”
Labouise answered: “Might be and then again it might not! Venison?—uh! uh!—might be a little big for that! Mind you, I don't say it's a doe, because I don't know, but it might be.”
Still the dealer insisted: “Perhaps it's a buck?”