"I trust that I shan’t dine with him that day," said Monsieur Berlingue to his neighbor.
"You seem to be eating nothing, fair Cornélie?" said Robineau, with a languishing glance at his neighbor.
"I am not hungry, monsieur."
"Ah! that is the way I was the day before yesterday!"
"Your friend Alfred seems to be in very high spirits."
"Yes, he’s a facetious fellow.—Will you have a little of the vol-au-vent?"
"I will take just a taste of it."
"Monsieur Férulus, a taste of vol-au-vent for Mademoiselle de la Pincerie."
Monsieur Férulus had a way of serving by which the choicest bits were always left for himself.
"Who on earth is that gentleman who carves so well and serves us so ill?" asked a young man to whom Férulus had as yet given nothing but legs, necks and bones.