"Sapré tarteff!" he cried; "are ve going to schmoke? Is id bermitted?"
"I not only permit it, but set the example; not always, by the way, but to-night we are so snug and cozy, and I am like Rochebrune, I am satisfied with my supper."
"Ah! do you smoke, madame?"
"Does that surprise you?"
"Nothing surprises me that you do?"
"Really! I don't know whether I ought to take that as a compliment. But I must, must I not? one should take everything in good part."
"Is it possible that I could dream of criticising you, who have been and still are so kind to me?"
"Really! you think that I am kind?—Ah! here is what I sent for."
The servant drew a small table near the supper table, and placed on it a large assortment of pipes, cigars, and several kinds of tobacco. Each of us chose what he liked best. I supposed that Frédérique would confine herself to cigarettes, but she took a very fine Turkish pipe and filled it with tobacco from the same country. Then she threw herself back in her chair, emptied a glass of malvoisie, and smoked with the abandon of a Mohammedan.
The baron clapped his hands, murmuring: