"I won't speak to her, monsieur; I swear to you that I won't!"
"Very good. Go and get ready, and tell Pongo that I am taking you in his place, that he need not go to Paris."
Georget, drunken with joy, ran like a mad man through the gardens; he longed to tell everybody that he was going to Paris. He told the gardener, who was watering his vegetables; he shouted it at his mother, who was working in front of the house, and who thought that she must have heard wrong; but when she attempted to ask her son for a word of explanation, he was already far away. He hastened up to his room to dress; he finished his toilet in a moment; then he started out to find Pongo, whom he found still brushing and beating flonflon; he tried to take possession of the coat, which the mulatto refused to give him.
"Let me have it, Pongo! let me have it!" said Georget; "you are not going to Paris, I am going to take your place. Give me the coat, I am going to take it to monsieur; it is beaten enough."
"What! what you say, Monsieur Georget,—me no go to Paris? Oh! you joking! you make fun of me!"
"I tell you, Pongo, that your master himself just told me that he would take me in your place; you can stay here with Carabi, that ought to please you."
"Me no believe you! Let flonflon alone."
"But I want to carry the coat to monsieur, as he is ready to go."
"You no touch flonflon! Me carry him to master alone, no need you."
"Then take it at once——"