“They’re in Paradise, setting the whole Department by the ears. But they can’t look sideways at me; I’m going to be exempt.”
“It strikes me,” observed Tric-Trac, “that you take great precautions for your own skin.” 247
“I do,” said the Lizard.
“What about me?”
The poacher looked around at the young ruffian. Those muscles in the human face which draw back the upper lip are not the muscles used for laughter. Animals employ them when they snarl. And now the Lizard laughed that way; his upper lip shrank from the edge of his yellow teeth, and he regarded Tric-Trac with oblique and burning eyes.
“What about me?” repeated Tric-Trac, in an offended tone. “Am I to live in fear of the Flics?”
The Lizard laughed again, and Tric-Trac, disgusted, stood up, settled his cap over his wide ears, humming a song as he loosened his trousers-belt:
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“Si vous t’nez à vot’ squelette Ne fait’ pas comme Bibi! Claquer plutôt dans vot’ lit Que de claquer à la Roquette!”— |
“Who are you gaping at?” he added, abruptly. “Bon; c’est ma geule. Et après? Drop that box!”
“Come,” replied the Lizard, coldly, placing the box on the moss, “you’d better not quarrel with me.”