"Birds of a feather flock together."
"Oh! my dear Rochebrune, pray don't put me on a diet of insipid compliments! I detest them. I prefer the volnay. Come, messieurs, drink! Do you prefer chambertin—or pomard? You have only to speak."
"I should mit bleazure trink all te drei."
"And you are quite right. Vive variety! It is charming, isn't it, messieurs?"
"It's very nice, in the matter of wine."
"And in everything else! own up to it, hypocrite!"
"I am too honest to contradict you."
"That's right! Why, see my flowers—how lovely they are! these roses and camellias and hyacinths and cactuses! Would the bouquet be so pretty, if I had nothing but roses?"
"Evidently, flowers are your passion."
"Faith! yes; and I believe the only one I have ever had thus far. Perhaps that is the reason I have been so frivolous, so fickle."