"Good-morning!" replied the other shortly, continuing to stride back and forth.
"Parbleu! I am very glad to find you this morning, which rarely happens; for ordinarily you and the poet are up before Phœbus. Ha! ha! Being with that devil of a Férulus, I am getting into the habit of speaking in metaphors altogether.—But let us come to what I want to say to you. You are not listening to me, Alfred!"
"Yes, yes, I am listening to you; speak on."
"Well, my friend, I will tell you then that during the day yesterday, I—By the way, what did you think of yesterday’s affair? You haven’t said anything to me about my fête. It was rather neat, eh?"
"Yes, with the exception of Monsieur Férulus’s poetry, the gladiators’ cheese, and Mademoiselle Cheval’s posteriors, it was very good."
"Oh! what can you expect? Such unforeseen little accidents always happen. Indeed, Monsieur Berlingue assured me that those things made the party more piquant.—However, my dear Alfred, during the day I definitely settled upon my choice."
"Your choice for what?"
"What! for what? Why, for my wife, nothing else. I absolutely must marry! When a man occupies a certain position, when he has a château—and then, my heart has spoken; oh, yes! it has spoken in a most extraordinary fashion! I have never been in love like this; it is true that no such fascinating object was ever before within my reach. I will bet that you have guessed, Alfred! You must have noticed our understanding. For my part, I confess that I could not restrain myself.—I say, Alfred, what are you looking at out of the window?"
"I am listening to you, I hear what you say; go ahead."
"Well, my dear friend, it is Mademoiselle Cornélie de la Pincerie who has won my heart; it is she who will be my wife, if, as I hope, monsieur le marquis, her father, does not interpose any obstacle to our union."