“Let me think it out,” groaned Polichinelle, and he took his head in his hands.
But from the tail of the table Andre-Louis was challenged by Climene who sat there between Columbine and Madame.
“You would alter the comedy, would you, M. Parvissimus?” she cried.
He turned to parry her malice.
“I would suggest that it be altered,” he corrected, inclining his head.
“And how would you alter it, monsieur?”
“I? Oh, for the better.”
“But of course!” She was sleekest sarcasm. “And how would you do it?”
“Aye, tell us that,” roared M. Binet, and added: “Silence, I pray you, gentlemen and ladies. Silence for M. Parvissimus.”
Andre-Louis looked from father to daughter, and smiled. “Pardi!” said he. “I am between bludgeon and dagger. If I escape with my life, I shall be fortunate. Why, then, since you pin me to the very wall, I’ll tell you what I should do. I should go back to the original and help myself more freely from it.”