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A Procurator’s Dinner

           Coquenardknithiseyebrowsbecausethereweretoomanygoodthings.Porthosbithislipsbecausehesawnotthewherewithaltodine.Helookedtoseeifthedishofbeanswasstillthere;thedishofbeanshaddisappeared.

           "Apositivefeast!"criedM.Coquenard,turningaboutinhischair,"arealfeast,EPULCEEPULORUM.LucullusdineswithLucullus."

           Porthoslookedatthebottle,whichwasnearhim,andhopedthatwithwine,bread,andcheese,hemightmakeadinner;butwinewaswanting,thebottlewasempty.M.andMme.Coquenarddidnotseemtoobserveit.

           "Thisisfine!"saidPorthostohimself;"Iamprettilycaught!"

           Hepassedhistongueoveraspoonfulofpreserves,andstuckhisteethintothestickypastryofMme.Coquenard.

           "Now,"saidhe,"thesacrificeisconsummated!Ah!ifIhadnotthehopeofpeepingwithMadameCoquenardintoherhusband’schest!"

           M.Coquenard,aftertheluxuriesofsucharepast,whichhecalledanexcess,feltthewantofasiesta.Porthosbegantohopethatthethingwouldtakeplaceatthepresentsitting,andinthatsamelocality;buttheprocuratorwouldlistentonothing,hewouldbetakentohisroom,andwasnotsatisfiedtillhewasclosetohischest,upontheedgeofwhich,forstillgreaterprecaution,heplacedhisfeet.

           Theprocurator’swifetookPorthosintoanadjoiningroom,andtheybegantolaythebasisofareconciliation.

           "Youcancomeanddinethreetimesaweek,"saidMme.Coquenard.

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