"The pie going to speak! ah! I would like right well to hear it, on my word!"
"Just a little patience. I can't understand what the matter is with him; he must have gone to sleep in there.—Coco, Coco—Dutaillis is lovely.—Ah! you won't speak, won't you? I will wake you up."
And Saint-Arthur, taking the huge pie in both hands, began to shake it with all his strength; then he replaced it on the table, saying:
"Will you speak now, you beast?"
While they waited again in silence, Monsieur Beauvinet ventured to blow his nose, which drew down upon his head a stern reprimand from his tenant.
"But whom are you calling a beast, and what is it that's in the pie?" asked Mademoiselle Zizi, beginning to get tired of keeping still for nothing.
"Well, my dear love, it is a parrot, a magnificent parrot, which I have taught to say: 'Dutaillis is lovely! applaud, clap Zizi!'"
"Ah! the poor creature! is it possible? Why, he must be stifled in there; that's why he doesn't speak.—Monsieur de Roncherolle, take the crust off at once."
"Are all the windows closed?" asked Saint-Arthur; "we must look out that he doesn't fly away.—See to it, Beauvinet."
Beauvinet made a strange grimace, but did not stir.