Era. You do not remember my face?
Mr. Pour. Yes, yes. (To Sbrigani) I don't know him a bit.
Era. You do not remember that I had the pleasure of drinking with you I don't know how many times?
Mr. Pour. Excuse me. (To Sbrigani) I don't know anything about it.
Era. What is the name of that pastrycook who cooks such capital dinners?
Mr. Pour. Petit-Jean.
Era. Just so. We used often to go there together to enjoy ourselves. How do you call that place where people go for a walk?
Mr. Pour. The cemetery of the Arènes.
Era. Exactly. It is there I enjoyed so many happy hours of your pleasant talk. Don't you remember it all now?
Mr. Pour. Pardon me; yes, I remember. (To Sbrigani) Deuce take me if I do.