‘I remember that axiom perfectly, Michel. Well?’
‘Well, sir, whom can this crime of stolen eggs benefit more than Pritchard?’
‘Pritchard? You think it is he who steals the eggs? Pritchard, who brings home eggs without breaking them!’
‘You mean who used to bring them. Pritchard is an animal who has vicious instincts, sir, and if he does not come to a bad end some day, I shall be surprised, that’s all.’
‘Does Pritchard eat eggs, then?’
‘He does; and it is only right to say, sir, that that is your fault.’
‘What! my fault? My fault that Pritchard eats eggs?’
Michel shook his head sadly, but nothing could shake his opinion.
‘Now really, Michel, this is too much! Is it not enough that critics tell me that I pervert everybody’s mind with my corrupt literature, but you must join my detractors and say that my bad example corrupts Pritchard?’
‘I beg pardon, sir, but do you remember how one day, at the Villa Medicis, while you were eating an egg, M. Rusconi who was there said something so ridiculous that you let the egg fall upon the floor?’