“What do you mean by that, my boy?”
“Why, if you’d had some more too, it would have been all the better, because we mean to have some fun, you see! But never mind—they make two more, anyway.”
“Haven’t you got many people at your wedding?”
“Oh! there’s eighty of us already.”
“That’s doing pretty well, seems to me.”
“Oh! but we must have some fun! I want to have some fun! and it takes a lot for that; for my part, I never laugh unless there’s at least a dozen in company.”
“I told you my nephew was a joker,” said Père Rondin to Auguste, who looked at Bertrand and smiled, while the latter muttered:
“This bridegroom impresses me as a big idiot.”
“But take us into the house, Cadet; we’re tired, and we want something to eat and drink.”
“Oh! excuse me, uncle; you see, my wife that is to be is on my brain.—Ah! messieurs, you’ll see, that’s all I’ve got to say; you’ll see such a fresh and blooming young woman! She’s like a poppy! And a figure! oh! I tell you—round and plump everywhere!”