Parbleu, vous le savez bien, Monsieur le Vicomte, says Frederic, the domestic, who was waiting on Clive and his friend.
A pelisse lined with true sable, and, worth three thousand francs, that I won of a little Russian at billiards. That pelisse at Strasbourg (where the infamous worms of the Mount of Piety are actually gnawing her). Two hundred francs and this reconnaissance, which Frederic receive, are all that now represent the pelisse. How many chemises have I, Frederic?
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. my first strapon
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
Plait-il, Monsieur le Vicomte? says the French Caleb. shop strap on
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.