“Everything you say is a lie!”
“Are you the woman’s brother or husband?” inquired the obese gentleman, staring into space and stroking his black sideburns with his much bediamonded hand.
“I am nothing of hers,” replied Quentin; “I don’t know her, and I don’t want to know her; but I do know that everything you say is a lie.”
“Pay no attention to him,” said one of the fat man’s companions; “he’s drunk.”
“Well, he’d better look out, or I’ll strike him with my stick.”
“You’ll strike me with your stick!” exclaimed Quentin. “Ha ... ha ... ha!... But have you ever looked into a mirror?... You really are most repulsive, my friend!”
The fat man, before such an insult to his appearance, rose and endeavoured to reach Quentin, but his friends restrained him. Quentin quickly removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves, ready to box.
“Evohé! Evohé!” he thundered. “Come who will! One by one, two by two, every one against me!”
A thin, blond man with blue eyes and a golden beard, stepped up to him; not as though to fight, but with a smile.
“What do you want?” Quentin asked him rudely.