ten out the
tangled skein of relationship.

"The father of Charles--I know, I know! The son of my nephew Saccard,
_pardi_! the one who made a fine marriage, and whose wife died--"

He stared at Maxime, seeming happy to find him already wrinkled at
thirty-two, with his hair and beard sprinkled with snow.

"Ah, well!" he added, "we are all growing old. But I, at least, have no
great reason to complain. I am solid."

And he planted himself firmly on his legs with his air of ferocious
mockery, while his fiery red face seemed to flame and burn. For a
long time past ordinary brandy had seemed to him like pure water; only
spirits of 36 degrees tickled his blunted palate; and he took such
draughts of it that he was full of it--his flesh saturated with it--like
a sponge. He perspired alcohol. At the slightest breath whenever he
spoke, he exhaled from his mouth a vapor of alcohol.

"Yes, truly; you are solid, uncle!" said Pascal, amazed. "And you have
done nothing to make you so; you have good reason to ridicule us. Only
there is one thing I am afraid of, look you, that some day in lighting
your pipe, you may set yourself on fire--like a bowl of punch."

Macquart, flattered, gave a sneering laugh.

"Have your jest, have your jest, my boy! A glass of cognac is worth more
than all your filthy drugs. And you will all touch glasses with me, hey?
So that it may be said truly that your uncle is a credit to you all.
As for me, I laugh at evil tongues. I have corn and olive trees, I have
almond trees and vines and land, like any _bourgeois_. In summer I smoke
my pipe under the shade of my mulberry trees; in winter I go to smoke it
against my wall, there in the sunshine. One has no need to blush for an
uncle like that, hey? Clotilde, I have syrup, if you would like some.
And you, Felicite, my dear, I know that you prefer anisette. There is
everything here, I tell you, there is everything here!"

He waved his arm as if to take possession of the comforts he enjoyed,
now that from an old sinner he had become a hermit, while Felicite, whom
he had disturbed a moment before by the enumeration of his riches, did
not take her eyes from his face, waiting to interrupt him.

"Thank you, Macquart, we will take nothing; we are in a hurry. Where is
Charles?"

"Charles? Very good, presently! I understand, papa has come to see his
boy. But that is not going to prevent you taking a glass."

And as they positively refused he became offended, an