“Why so, Père Ledrux?”
“Well! it was mighty fine, they say; but when things end in a fight—why, that ain’t so amusing! I don’t like that, myself!”
“What’s that? What do you mean by a fight?”
“Why, yes, a fight, quarrelling, blows. And it seems they went at it in good shape, for Monsieur Droguet lost six or seven teeth, and Monsieur Luminot got a crack that echoed like a blow on a drum!”
The young women gazed at each other in surprise.
“Are you quite sure of what you say, Père Ledrux?”
“What’s that? am I sure? Why the whole village knows it as well as I do.”
“How is it that Monsieur Edmond and Freluchon, who were at that party, haven’t told us a word of this?”
“Faith! it’s all the more surprising because it was them as did the hitting.”
“Oh! that is impossible.”