"That will make two black gloves on a pinch," said Schaunard. "You are going to look like the solar spectrum in that dress. To be sure, a colourist such as you are—"
Marcel was trying the boots. Alas! They are both for the same foot! The artist, in despair, perceived an old boot in a corner which had served as the receptacle of their empty bladders. He seized upon it.
"From Garrick to Syllable," said his jesting comrade, "one square-toed and the other round."
"I am going to varnish them and it won't show."
"A good idea! Now you only want the dress-coat."
"Oh!" cried Marcel, biting his fists:
"To have one would I give ten years of life,
And this right hand, I tell thee."
They heard another knock at the door. Marcel opened it.
"Monsieur Schaunard?" inquired a stranger, halting on the threshold.
"At your service," replied the painter, inviting him in.