"Ah! do you think so, Neighbor Lambourdin?" rejoined the barber, in a bantering tone; for the wrathful expression blazing in the other's eyes gave him a comical appearance, which inspired merriment rather than alarm.
"Yes, I do think so!—What! you, to whose place the young nobles come by preference, whether to bathe, or to have their hair and beards arranged, and bring customers to your establishment and make it fashionable!—you take sides against them in this quarrel, instead of going to their assistance, as every self-respecting man should do! You take part with strangers—a rustic and a strumpet from no one knows where!"
"I do what I please, what suits me, neighbor! I consult my heart before my pocket. I look to see on which side the right and not the profit is.—But why do you interfere? Is it any of your business?"
"Yes, monsieur le baigneur; yes, it is my business—And that young page whom you smeared with soapsuds so shamefully! He even had it in his eyes! You spoiled a superb bow of ribbon that I sold him this morning!"
"So much the better for you; he'll buy another one of you!"
"No, he will not—I mean, yes, he will buy another one.—But your conduct is none the less indecent!"
"By Notre-Dame de Paris! you are beginning to make my ears burn, Neighbor Lambourdin! Not another word, or I strike you!"
"Do you think to frighten me, you low-lived bath keeper, unworthy to shave noble chins! I am no boy of fifteen; and if you should touch me with your shaving brush, I'd trample you under foot like an old blanket!"
"Ah! so! Well, take that! I won't touch you with my shaving brush!"
As he spoke, Hugonnet buried his fist in Lambourdin's side; the latter had gone too far to retreat; and then, too, there were so many witnesses! So he answered the blow with a kick, but he measured the distance so inaccurately that he kicked into space.