“That’s true,” said Grandet, “but your loaves weigh six pounds; there’ll be some left. Besides, these young fellows from Paris don’t eat bread, you’ll see.”
“Then they must eat frippe?” said Nanon.
Frippe is a word of the local lexicon of Anjou, and means any accompaniment of bread, from butter which is spread upon it, the commonest kind of frippe, to peach preserve, the most distinguished of all the frippes; those who in their childhood have licked the frippe and left the bread, will comprehend the meaning of Nanon’s speech.
“No,” answered Grandet, “they eat neither bread nor frippe; they are something like marriageable girls.”
After ordering the meals for the day with his usual parsimony, the goodman, having locked the closets containing the supplies, was about to go towards the fruit-garden, when Nanon stopped him to say,—
“Monsieur, give me a little flour and some butter, and I’ll make a galette for the young ones.”
“Are you going to pillage the house on account of my nephew?”
“I wasn’t thinking any more of your nephew than I was of your dog,—not more than you think yourself; for, look here, you’ve only forked out six bits of sugar. I want eight.”
“What’s all this, Nanon? I have never seen you like this before. What have you got in your head? Are you the mistress here? You sha’n’t have more than six pieces of sugar.”
“Well, then, how is your nephew to sweeten his coffee?”