The old servant was dumfounded at sight of Passedix, whom she did not recognize.
"Who in the world is this person?" she murmured.
"This person, Popelinette, is your tenant, whom you have never seen in such gorgeous attire, and whom you did not deem capable of becoming so charming, I fear; there are so many people who notice only the clothes, and do not choose to take the trouble to look deeper! I was as handsome a man this morning, but I did not wear this magnificent costume, so that I was less admired!"
"I am inclined to think that he was not admired at all!" said Plumard to his comrade.
"Oh! monsieur le chevalier—why, you look like an orange now!" replied the old servant.
"So much the better, my dear, so much the better! The orange is a distinguished and sweet-smelling fruit. I will go to some perfumer's shop this evening, and cause myself to be sprinkled from head to foot, so that people may smell me five minutes before they see me.—But let us drink, my dear clerks, let us taste these bottles—let us empty them, cadédis!—and no heeltaps!—Come, young plaster! Cheer up, and take off that shocking blister, which makes you look like a spaniel."
Plumard made a wry face, but he drank; Bahuchet laughed at his companion's expression, and emptied his glass, which Passedix refilled.
The two clerks were soon more than hilarious, and began to make remarks which might have compromised them in Passedix's eyes, if he had been in a condition to notice them; but, being engrossed by his new costume and his newly acquired wealth, and being passably excited himself by his frequent libations, the chevalier did not hear what the two clerks said; especially as the wine had loosened the tongues of all three, so that they all talked at once.
"Six thousand francs a year! O fortune!—How becoming this color is to me!"