—How early you are, my dear uncle; my Mass has not yet rang.
—Have you no preparations to make for departure?
—For departure. Is it for to-day then?
—Do you wish to put it off to the Greek Kalends?
—To-day! repeated Marcel. I did not think really that it was so soon.
He dressed with the prudent delays of a man who says to himself: Let us see, let us consider carefully what we must do.
—You don't look satisfied, resumed Ridoux; I bring you honour, fortune and success, and you look sulky.
—Honour, fortune and success. Those are very fine words!
—It is with fine words that we do fine things, and one of them is, it appears, to unmoor you from this place.
—The fact is, replied Marcel, that I have reflected to-night; and, after well considering everything, I am perfectly well off, and have no desire to go away to be worse off elsewhere.