I.—You have given yourself a great deal of trouble to show me that you are uncommonly clever; but I would have taken your word for it.
He.—Uncommonly clever; oh no! For my trade, I know it decently, and that is more than one wants; for in this country is one obliged to know all that one shows?
I.—No more than to know all that one teaches.
He.—That is true, most thoroughly true. Now, sir philosopher, your hand on your conscience, speak the truth; there was a time when you were not a man of such substance as you are to-day.
I.—I am not so very substantial even now.
He.—But you would not go now to the Luxembourg in summer-time.... You remember?
I.—No more of that. Yes, I do remember.
He.—In an overcoat of gray shag?
I.—Ay, ay.
He.—Terribly worn at one side, with one of the sleeves torn; and black woollen stockings mended at the back with white thread.