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A Procurator’s Dinner

           Coquenardfilledherownplate,anddistributedthecrustswithoutsouptotheimpatientclerks.Atthismomentthedoorofthediningroomunclosedwithacreak,andPorthosperceivedthroughthehalf-openflapthelittleclerkwho,notbeingallowedtotakepartinthefeast,atehisdrybreadinthepassagewiththedoubleodorofthediningroomandkitchen.

           Afterthesoupthemaidbroughtaboiledfowlapieceofmagnificencewhichcausedtheeyesofthedinerstodilateinsuchamannerthattheyseemedreadytoburst.

           "Onemayseethatyouloveyourfamily,MadameCoquenard,"saidtheprocurator,withasmilethatwasalmosttragic."Youarecertainlytreatingyourcousinveryhandsomely!"

           Thepoorfowlwasthin,andcoveredwithoneofthosethick,bristlyskinsthroughwhichtheteethcannotpenetratewithalltheirefforts.Thefowlmusthavebeensoughtforalongtimeontheperch,towhichithadretiredtodieofoldage.

           "Thedevil!"thoughtPorthos,"thisispoorwork.Irespectoldage,butIdon’tmuchlikeitboiledorroasted."

           Andhelookedroundtoseeifanybodypartookofhisopinion;butonthecontrary,hesawnothingbuteagereyeswhichweredevouring,inanticipation,thatsublimefowlwhichwastheobjectofhiscontempt.

           Mme.

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Roboto Lora
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