"I was perfectly sure that Monsieur Faisandé would be more indecent than the rest of us when he began upon this subject," said Balloquet; "he has a way of preaching morality that would make a vivandière blush."
"I should be very glad to know what you consider unseemly in my language, Monsieur Balloquet?"
"Your language is excellently well chosen; it is technical; but you produce the effect of a medical book on me; they are most estimable works in themselves, but young women mustn't be allowed to read them. Pray go on, Monsieur Faisandé; I am terribly sorry that I interrupted you, you were beginning so well!"
The Treasury clerk pursed his lips and continued, emphasizing every word:
"I have never had any bonnes fortunes, messieurs; and I don't propose to begin now that I am married."
"What a hypocrite!" muttered my stout neighbor. "I don't know the fellow's wife, but I pity her; for I am convinced that she has a mighty poor fellow for a husband."
"What, Monsieur Faisandé! not even some trivial little bit of fooling to tell us? Come, search your memory, did nothing ever happen to you in the Cité? in Rue aux Fèves or Rue Saint-Éloy? There are plenty of frail damsels on those streets, they say."
This time Monsieur Faisandé turned green; he did not know which way to look, and stammered a few inaudible words. Dupréval, observing his evident discomfort, and wishing to put an end to a scene which threatened to lose its comic aspect, hastily asked Montricourt to take the floor.
The dandy smoothed the nascent beard that adorned his chin, then said in a low voice, assuming a serious air:
"What I am about to tell you, messieurs, may seem improbable to you. Understand that I have had a pair of wings made—yes, messieurs, a pair of wings as magnificent as an eagle's. I fasten them under my arms, and then, as you can imagine, I go wherever I choose. When a woman attracts me, I fly in at her window, even if she lives on the fifth floor; I carry her off, and I win her in mid-air! It's a wonderful thing!"