"I trust at least that you have not yet dined."
"No, uncle."
"To Foyot's, then!"
When you expect to meet a man in his wrath and get an invitation to dinner, you feel almost as if you had been taken in. You are heated, your arguments are at your fingers' ends, your stock of petulance is ready for immediate use; and all have to be stored in bond.
When I had recovered from my surprise, I said:
"I expected you sooner, from your letter."
"Your suppositions were correct. I have been two days here, at the Grand
Hotel. I went there on account of the dining-room, for my friend
Hublette (you remember Hublette at Bourges) told me: 'Mouillard, you must
see that room before you retire from business.'"
"I should have gone to see you there, uncle, if I had known it."
"You would not have found me. Business before pleasure, Fabien. I had to see three barristers and five solicitors. You know that business of that kind can not wait. I saw them. Business over, I can indulge my feelings. Here I am. Does Foyot suit you?"
"Certainly, uncle."