"Well, then, on Sunday, father Pantois."
"On Sunday, Monsieur Lanlaire."
"And take good care of yourself, father Pantois."
"You also, Monsieur Lanlaire."
"And thirty francs, mind you. I do not take back what I said."
"You are very good."
And the old man, trembling on his legs, and with back bent, went away, and disappeared in the darkness.
Poor Monsieur! he must have received his lecture! And, as for father Pantois, if ever he gets his thirty francs,—well, he will be lucky.
I do not wish to justify Madame, but I think that Monsieur is wrong in talking familiarly with people that are too far beneath him. It is not dignified.
I know very well that he doesn't lead a gay life, to be sure, and that he takes such opportunities as offer. That is not always convenient. When he comes back late from a hunt, dirty and wet, and singing to keep up his courage, Madame gives him a warm reception.
"Ah! it is very nice of you to leave me alone all day!"
"But you know very well, my pet "…