“Ortolans,” answered De Nani, too busily engaged in stuffing himself to find passage for more than one word.
“By my soul, the Marquis is right!” cried the great newspaper man. “An atheist stuffed with ortolans is all they want to complete their collection now they have crowned their idiocy by buying ——’s collection of bronzes.”
“Talking of crowns,” came the insidious lisp of Struve, “have you heard the news? Willy Hohenzollern has—guess what.”
“Written a farce?”
“Painted his face?”
“Become a telegraph clerk?”
“Gone mad,” replied Struve.
“What’s his madness?” roared Pelisson, glaring at this opposition newsman.
“They say he fancies himself an Emperor.”
“Throw flowers over him to cool him,” cried Toto, snatching a rose out of a dish and flinging it in Struve’s face as the entrée was brought in.