“My digestion is so troublesome!” he replied; “see! my color is almost as high as yours.”
Rigou’s appearance on the terrace was the sign for an explosion of jovial greetings on the part of the assembled company.
“And how may the lord of Blangy be?” said little Sarcus, justice of the peace.
“Lord!” replied Rigou, bitterly, “I am not even cock of my own village now.”
“The hens don’t say so, scamp!” exclaimed Madame Soudry, tapping her fan on his arm.
“All well, my dear master?” said the notary, bowing to his chief client.
“Pretty well,” replied Rigou, again putting his fore-finger into his interlocutor’s hand.
This gesture, by which Rigou kept down the process of hand-shaking to the coldest and stiffest of demonstrations would have revealed the whole man to any observer who did not already know him.
“Let us find a corner where we can talk quietly,” said the ex-monk, looking at Lupin and at Madame Soudry.
“Let us return to the salon,” replied the queen.