"Is it true you are out of money?" demanded Trent.
"Yes, I am," sighed the other.
"That roast sucking pig on the rue St. Honoré,—is it there yet?" continued Trent.
"Wh—at?" stammered the feeble one.
"Ah—I thought so! I caught you in ecstasy before that sucking pig at least a dozen times!"
Then laughing, he presented Fallowby with a roll of twenty franc pieces saying: "If these go for luxuries you must live on your own flesh," and went over to aid West, who sat beside the wash-basin binding up his hand.
West suffered him to tie the knot, and then said: "You remember, yesterday, when I left you and Braith to take the chicken to Colette."
"Chicken! Good heavens!" moaned Fallowby.
"Chicken," repeated West, enjoying Fallowby's grief;—"I—that is, I must explain that things are changed. Colette and I—are to be married—"
"What—what about the chicken?" groaned Fallowby.