"Rely on me; I will order the dinner; and as we are sensible men and have no women with us, there's no need of our making fools of ourselves. We don't want to have a magnificent feast, but simply to dine comfortably. Is that your idea?"
"Exactly; still——"
"You have just the disposition I like! I shall mark with a white cross—album dies!—the day which brought us together and enabled me to return your cane. I regret that you lost my Chinese switch! but you have your cane; that's the main thing!"
Whenever his new friend mentioned his cane, Monsieur Courbichon made a wry face, but he did not venture to make any complaint. They proceeded to dine: one, talking constantly as he ate; the other, eating almost without speaking; and, although Cherami had informed his host that they would dine like sensible men, when the bill was brought, it amounted to twenty-two francs.
"That is not too much," said Cherami, passing the check to his companion; "for we have had a good dinner and punished our three bottles."
The little bald man seemed to be of a different opinion; he turned the paper over and over in his hand, muttering:
"Twenty-two francs! twenty-two francs!"
"Well, my good Courbichon, that won't drain the sea dry! How many times I have spent ten times as much on a dainty dinner, tête-à-tête with a pretty woman! To be sure, we used to have all the delicacies of the season—asparagus at thirty francs the bunch, strawberries at fifteen francs, pineapples, wine of Constance.—The women adore that wine! they delight in getting tipsy on Constance—in the bottle!—Have you ever indulged in that sort of affair, amiable Courbichon? Oh! you must have done it, many a time! That's where you lost your hair; eh, old boy?"
"Twenty-two francs! twenty-two francs!"
"Those figures seem to worry you! Do you find a mistake in the addition?"