“I expected nothing less of you, Monsieur Thuillier,” cried Phellion. “Pardon me; this is the first time in my life that I have ever interrupted a superior; but there are circumstances—”
“Accept! accept!” cried Zelie. “Bless my soul! what we want are men like you to govern us.”
“Resign yourself, my chief!” cried Dutocq, and, “Long live the future municipal councillor! but we haven’t anything to drink—”
“Well, the thing is settled,” said Minard; “you are to be our candidate.”
“You think too much of me,” replied Thuillier.
“Come, come!” cried Colleville. “A man who has done thirty years in the galleys of the ministry of finance is a treasure to the town.”
“You are much too modest,” said the younger Minard; “your capacity is well known to us; it remains a tradition at the ministry of finance.”
“As you all insist—” began Thuillier.
“The King will be pleased with our choice; I can assure you of that,” said Minard, pompously.
“Gentlemen,” said la Peyrade, “will you permit a recent dweller in the faubourg Saint-Jacques to make one little remark, which is not without importance?”