I said to myself: 'Whew! the mantua-maker is presenting
his bill!' Madame cried and went on like mad; but, pshaw! when the
master really begins, there's no one like him. There isn't a cab-
driver in Paris who's his equal for swearing."
"And M. Van Klopen?"
"Oh, he's used to such scenes! When gentlemen abuse him he does
the same as dogs do when they come up out of the water; he just
shakes his head and troubles himself no more about it. He has
decidedly the best of the row. He has furnished the goods, and
he'll have to be paid sooner or later----"
"What! hasn't he been paid then?"
"I don't know; he's still here."
A terrible crash of breaking china interrupted this edifying
conversation. "There!" exclaimed one of the footmen, "that's
monsieur; he has smashed two or three hundred francs' worth of
dishes. He MUST be rich to pay such a price for his angry fits."
"Well," observed the other, "if I were in monsieur's place I
should be angry too. Would you let your wife have her dresses
fitted on by a man? I says that it's indecent. I'm only a
servant, but----"
"Nonsense, it's the fashion. Besides, monsieur does not care
about that. A man who----"
He stopped short; in fact, the others had motioned him to be
silent. The baron was surrounded by exceptional servants, and the
presence of a stranger acted as a restraint upon them.
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