"Fichtre! he must have been a very great man!"
"Don't you know what used to be said of him: that he was the husband of all the women?"
"Yes, and we know the rest."
"I say, you, over there! Haven't you nearly finished talking about your Romans?"
"What about our host's toast?—Come, Dupréval, we're waiting; the guns are loaded, the matches lighted."
"Silence at the end of the table! Dupréval is going to speak! Great God! what chatterers those fellows are!"
"It's not we, messieurs, that you hear; it's the music. Hark, listen! they're dancing; there are wedding parties all about us—two or three at least."
"What is there surprising in that? Aren't there always wedding feasts going on at Deffieux's?"
"For my part, if I kept a restaurant, and had such a class of patrons, I would take for my sign: the Maid of Orléans."
"Oh! that would be very injudicious: many brides would refuse to have their wedding feasts at your place."