Dutocq [whispering to Bixiou]. “I have something I want to say to you.”
Bixiou [fingering Dutocq’s waistcoat]. “You’ve a pretty waistcoat, that cost you nothing; is that what you want to say?”
Dutocq. “Nothing, indeed! I never paid so dear for anything in my life. That stuff cost six francs a yard in the best shop in the rue de la Paix,—a fine dead stuff, the very thing for deep mourning.”
Bixiou. “You know about engravings and such things, my dear fellow, but you are totally ignorant of the laws of etiquette. Well, no man can be a universal genius! Silk is positively not admissible in deep mourning. Don’t you see I am wearing woollen? Monsieur Rabourdin, Monsieur Baudoyer, and the minister are all in woollen; so is the faubourg Saint-Germain. There’s no one here but Minard who doesn’t wear woollen; he’s afraid of being taken for a sheep. That’s the reason why he didn’t put on mourning for Louis XVIII.”
[During this conversation Baudoyer is sitting by the fire in Godard’s room, and the two are conversing in a low voice.]
Baudoyer. “Yes, the worthy man is dying. The two ministers are both with him. My father-in-law has been notified of the event. If you want to do me a signal service you will take a cab and go and let Madame Baudoyer know what is happening; for Monsieur Saillard can’t leave his desk, nor I my office. Put yourself at my wife’s orders; do whatever she wishes. She has, I believe, some ideas of her own, and wants to take certain steps simultaneously.” [The two functionaries go out together.]
Godard. “Monsieur Bixiou, I am obliged to leave the office for the rest of the day. You will take my place.”
Baudoyer [to Bixiou, benignly]. “Consult me, if there is any necessity.”
Bixiou. “This time, La Billardiere is really dead.”
Dutocq [in Bixiou’s ear]. “Come outside a minute.” [The two go into the corridor and gaze at each other like birds of ill-omen.]