Every part of the costume was much too large for the Gascon, whose thin, lank body danced about in his new clothes. But Bahuchet assumed an expression of admiration as he gazed at him, and exclaimed:
"It suits you magnificently, seigneur chevalier! One would swear that the costume was made for you; it makes you stouter.—Egad! how handsome you are now!"
"The short-clothes are perhaps a little full, are they not?"
"That will be all right; you are superb!"
"In truth, I believe that I am not to be despised in this garb; and if the little one should see me now, it is probable that she would be less surly; but she shall see me—I must meet her somewhere. I propose to exhibit myself to the whole city."
"You will find no cruel fair, seigneur."
"He is very agreeable, this little clerk!—It's a pity that your friend has that plaster on his head—it makes him look too much like a poodle; if I were in his place, I would rather sneeze than wear that.—By the way, messieurs, I forgot the most essential article—the price of these clothes."
"Thirty pistoles for the whole outfit," said Plumard, curtly, for he was not pleased to be thought to resemble a poodle.
"Thirty pistoles it is! we will draw on the little bag. Money is made to keep moving, sandis!"
While Passedix counted out the thirty pistoles to Plumard, for a costume which his uncle the second-hand dealer had said that he would sell for fifteen, Popelinette returned with a basket containing divers bottles.