"So long as I have a good dinner, my dear man, it matters little to me whether I dine with a baron or a miller."
"Come, come, Frossard, my friend, have a little more elevation in your ideas."
"My chicken is getting cold."
"You shall have some delicious hare piqué at my house; I also have a certain pâté de foie gras, which has just been sent to me from Strasbourg."
"Ah! the traitor will succeed in tempting me."
"We will have some of my old pomard, and some of that Saint-Péray you're so fond of."
"It is impossible to resist you."
"Will you come?"
"Yes; but not for your noblemen and your scholars; I don't know anything about them. I'll come for the hare and the pomard, which I know all about."
Monsieur Fondant was the first to arrive; but, being naturally timid, and more embarrassed than usual at the thought of appearing before two strangers, whom he supposed to be princes from the few words his neighbor had let fall, the ex-apothecary remained in the reception-room adjoining the salon where Madame Chambertin was talking with her guests; lacking courage to present himself alone, he waited for the other guests to arrive, so that he might steal in behind them.