"Never fear! what would I say to them, anyway?"
"Very good! You are Monsieur de Chamousky, a Polish nobleman."
"No; for I was born in Piedmont."
"Hold your tongue; I make you a Pole!—You, Michel, are a wealthy land-holder from Auvergne; at all events, you will be rightfully entitled to your accent."
"Yes, yes, I have some land at home, and all planted with chestnuts."
"The gentlemen who are coming will tell you what weapons the count proposes to fight with, also the time and place; to whatever they propose, you will reply: 'Very well, we agree.'—Do you understand?"
"Pardi! that ain't very hard: 'Very well; that hits us!'"
"I didn't say: 'That hits us,' but: 'We agree.'"
"Bah! it amounts to the same thing."
"No, no! Sacrebleu! it doesn't amount to the same thing! Don't you go making mistakes; no foolishness! Ah! mon Dieu! I hear a carriage stopping in front of the house; two gentlemen are getting out—they are the ones. Attention! I leave the door unlocked, so that they can open it themselves. I go into this little dark closet for a moment; I want them to think that I have more than this one room. Now: a serious face, heads up, and be cool!"