Eh, parbleu, Monsieur le Vicomte sait bien que nous avons toujours vingt-quatre chemises, says Frederic, grumbling.
Monsieur le Vicomte springs up shrieking from the dinner-table. Twenty-four shirts, says he, and I have been a week without a louis in my pocket! Belitre! Nigaud! He flings open one drawer after another, but there are no signs of that superfluity of linen of which the domestic spoke, whose countenance now changes from a grim frown to a grim smile.
Ah, my faithful Frederic, I pardon thee! Mr. Newcome will understand my harmless supercherie. Frederic was in my company of the Guard, and remains with me since. He is Caleb Balderstone and I am Ravenswood. Yes, I am Edgard. Let us have coffee and a cigar, Balderstone straps on
Plait-il, Monsieur le Vicomte? says the French Caleb. realistic strapon
Thou comprehendest not English. Thou readest not Valtare Scott, thou! cries the master. I was recounting to Monsieur Newcome thy history and my misfortunes. Go seek coffee for us, nigaud And as the two gentlemen partake of that exhilarating liquor, the elder confides gaily to his guest the reason why he prefers taking coffee at the hotel to the coffee at the great Cafe of the Redoute, with a duris urgens in rebus egestass! pronounced in the true French manner.
Clive was greatly amused by the gaiety of the Viscount after his misfortunes and his Moscow; and thought that one of Mr. Bainess circular notes might not be ill laid out in succouring this hero. It may have been to this end that Floracs confessions tended; though, to do him justice, the incorrigible young fellow would confide his adventures to any one who would listen; and the exact state of his wardrobe, and the story of his pawned pelisse, dressing-case, rings and watches, were known to all Baden.
You tell me to marry and range myself, said Clive (to whom the Viscount was expatiating upon the charms of the superbe young Anglaise with whom he had seen Clive walking on the promenade). Why do you not marry and range yourself too?