Some might have bent. I preferred to break.
We are strangers for life. I have just seen him to the landing of my staircase.
He came here about a quarter of an hour ago, proud, and, I may say, swaggering, as he does over his learned friends when he has found a flaw in one of their pleadings.
“Well, nephew?”
“Well, uncle?”
“I’ve got some news for you.”
“Indeed?”
M. Mouillard banged his hat down furiously upon my table.
“Yes, you know my maxim: when anything does not seem quite clear to me—”
“You ferret it out.”