"Never mind. Ah, one thing more. Is he married? Tell me that."
"Monsieur, he marries this month,—a great marriage."
"Enough. That's sufficient."
At this moment the party pushed back their chairs and came straggling toward him.
"When you're young all folly's possible," said the voice of Barabant at his elbow.
"It's a wonder, I say, that we survive to middle age."
"Dame, yes!" replied the baron. "Will you believe it of me—at twenty-five I wept because I could not die for an idea!"
Dossonville, who was on the point of rising, fell back and lowered his head. The resplendent group swaggered down to the sidewalk, where presently a magnificent equipage rolled up, a lady extended her hand to the Baron de Ricordo, who, nodding to his comrades, sprang into the carriage and drove off.
Pushing back the untasted glass, Dossonville rang for his bill.
"Monsieur doesn't take his drink," the garçon objected.