But the very day she told him all this his door opened suddenly and Poufaille entered with a furious air.
“Ah, the pigs!” he cried, shaking his fist toward the Louvre; and he threw into a corner a tool which Phil took at first for a sculptor’s instrument. It was a spade.
“What’s that?” asked Phil. “What’s the matter?”
“That’s my spade; and the matter is they are pigs!”
“Have they taken your plafond away from you?” Phil asked on a chance.
“What plafond?” Poufaille cried. “They’re trying to keep me from cultivating my potatoes!”
“Potatoes?” exclaimed Phil.
“Phil doesn’t know about it,” Suzanne said to Poufaille.
