“Stripped to the waist”
“I know Socrate,” Phil said with pride.
“The welcome!” Socrate repeated.
“C’est ça! That’s it, the welcome!” the whole hall cried.
“That means you must pay the drinks for the studio,” the pupil explained. “It’s the custom here.”
“Messieurs, whenever you wish,” said Phil.
“At the Deux Magots and at once,” Socrate insisted, like a man accustomed to prompt decisions.
Phil dressed himself, and all went out into the streets, en route for the Deux Magots. Socrate, the glory of the studio, leader of men, and genius—Socrate himself gave his arm to Phil.