"That's the talk!" said Jean Ficelle. "Sound men never sulk! Let the maggoty ones go! we can do without 'em!"
"O my friends!" cried Laboussole, in a sentimental tone, "when we are so comfortable together, we mustn't think of separating; let's stay here a week—what do you say? Good! we will!"
Paul leaned over toward Bastringuette, and said in an undertone:
"You are responsible for Sans-Cravate's getting drunk. He is drinking to forget the grief you have caused him by telling him that you meant to leave him! and it may result in some catastrophe."
"What do I care? I'm done with him. I don't love him any more; I love somebody else, and that somebody else is you."
Paul drew back without replying. At that moment, they heard roars of laughter in another part of the room, where the red-nosed carpenter, surrounded by drinkers, was saying:
"Yes. I'll bet I can do it. Yes, I say, I'll bet I can, and that nobody else'll do it after me. Bah! you're a pack of cowards, you don't dare to bet!"
"Ah! there's Cagnoux up to his tricks!" said Jean Ficelle; "challenging everybody, as usual."
Sans-Cravate left his place and walked to the carpenter's table.
"What is it you're going to do that the others won't do?" he asked. "That's a pretty good one! Do you think there's no cocks here of your size, Cagnoux?"