"You have some very strong-minded people here," said Gaudissart,
leaning against the door-post and lighting his cigar at Mitouflet's
pipe.
"How do you mean?" asked Mitouflet.
"I mean people who are rough-shod on political and financial ideas."
"Whom have you seen? if I may ask without indiscretion," said the
landlord innocently, expectorating after the adroit and periodical
fashion of smokers.
"A fine, energetic fellow named Margaritis."
Mitouflet cast two glances in succession at his guest which were
expressive of chilling irony.
"May be; the good-man knows a deal. He knows too much for other folks,
who can't always understand him."
"I can believe it, for he thoroughly comprehends the abstruse
principles of finance."
"Yes," said the innkeeper, "and for my part, I am sorry he is a
lunatic."
"A lunatic! What do you mean?"
"Well, crazy,--cracked, as people are when they are insane," answered
Mitouflet. "But he is not dangerous; his wife takes care of him. Have
you been arguing with him?" added the pitiless landlord; "that must
have been funny!"
"Funny!" cried Gaudissart. "Funny! Then your Monsieur Vernier has been
making fun of me!"
"Did he send you there?"
"Yes."
"Wife! wife! come here and listen. If Monsieur Vernier didn't take it
into his head to send this gentleman to talk to Margaritis!"
"What in the world did you say to each other, my dear, good Monsieur?"
said the wife. "Why, he's crazy!"
"He sold me two casks of wine.
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