“Parbleu! what do I care for your hat!”
“Look you, perhaps you care for my head, which is entirely unprotected. I am wet through, covered with mud, battered and crushed. What a cold I shall have! And my clothes! It was well worth while to dress! Open-work stockings; and see, there’s my shirt frill on that pole. Mon Dieu! it wouldn’t take much to knock me over!”
“Come, come, Raymond! damnation! be a man! You’re worse than a baby. We must get out of this somehow.”
“Where’s our groom?”
“I’m afraid the poor devil hurt himself when he jumped down, and I should be very much at a loss to know where to look for him.”
“If we could raise the carriage!”
“But one wheel came off when it went over.”
“The devil himself took a hand in the job.”
“I’m afraid the horse has hurt himself on these poles.—This pleasure party is like to cost us dear, neighbor.”
“Oh! you’re very lucky to be able to take it so calmly! For my part, I am crushed and furious at the same time!”