“That’s right, Lampin, you’re a good fellow. You have come just in time to cheer us up, for we were as dismal as empty pockets, Monbrun and I.”
“Let’s have a drink first; that will set you up, and then we will talk.”
The four bottles were placed on a table; the gentlemen took their places at it, and the glasses were filled and emptied rapidly.
“We haven’t a sou, Lampin, and that’s a wretched disease.”
“Bah! because you are fools!—Here’s your health.”
“What do you mean by that, Jean-Fesse?”
“I mean that if I had your talents, and especially Monbrun’s, I wouldn’t be where you are now, but I would have my bread well buttered.”
“What do you mean?” asked Edouard, pouring out a glass of brandy; “explain yourself.”
“Anybody can understand that, my son; I tell you again that if I knew how to handle a pen as you do, I would speculate on a large scale! But you’re scared to death!”
“We have speculated enough, but it hasn’t succeeded with us.”