While he was saying these words the marquis filled one of the cups with wine and swallowed it at a draught.
"Really, it's not so very bad."
"Ah, monseigneur, if it were on your table—"
"Then I should find it detestable; but what will you have? Variety is the spice of life. And you have become rich, then?"
"No, not rich, but well enough off to buy this house."
"What! the house belongs to you?"
"Yes, monsieur le marquis."
"Deuce take it, Master Touquet, it must be that you have made some big hauls in order to become a proprietor."
The barber's face contracted; his black eyebrows frowned and almost met; he slowly rolled his eyes around him, and murmured with an effort,—
"Monsieur le marquis, I swear to you—"