"Well, he didn't miss fire."

"Oh! but that was a very scurvy trick for him to play—to get himself and his friend invited to dinner!"

"And by Mirotaine! For my part, I think it was very clever! Dodichet is really much cleverer than I supposed."

"What does he do?"

"Mon Dieu! nothing at all. He has run through all his property, making sport of everybody all the while! But what will it bring him to? Starvation!—for, in this world, we all have to do something in order to succeed—to make a good position for ourselves;—eh, Bruneau?"

"How's that? what?"

"Pshaw! he never attends to the conversation!"

"Give me something to drink; I like that better."

"I was saying that everyone has his goal here on earth; I know what mine is, and I shall get there!—You must have a goal, too, Monsieur Callé—you, too, want to arrive, eh?"

"Arrive where, monsieur?"