must
needs drive the latter from their sight, either by means of their teeth
or their feet. And that is why, if I were in your place, I should take
my precautions. The Quenus belong to the Fat, and so do the Mehudins;
indeed, you have none but Fat ones around you. I should feel uneasy
under such circumstances."

"And what about Gavard, and Mademoiselle Saget, and your friend
Marjolin?" asked Florent, still smiling.

"Oh, if you like, I will classify all our acquaintances for you,"
replied Claude. "I've had their heads in a portfolio in my studio for a
long time past, with memoranda of the order to which they belong. Gavard
is one of the Fat, but of the kind which pretends to belong to the
Thin. The variety is by no means uncommon. Mademoiselle Saget and
Madame Lecoeur belong to the Thin, but to a variety which is much to be
feared--the Thin ones whom envy drives to despair, and who are capable
of anything in their craving to fatten themselves. My friend Marjolin,
little Cadine, and La Sarriette are three Fat ones, still innocent,
however, and having nothing but the guileless hunger of youth. I may
remark that the Fat, so long as they've not grown old, are charming
creatures. Monsieur Lebigre is one of the Fat--don't you think so? As
for your political friends, Charvet, Clemence, Logre, and Lacaille, they
mostly belong to the Thin. I only except that big animal Alexandre, and
that prodigy Robine, who has caused me a vast amount of annoyance."

The artist continued to talk in this strain from the Pont de Neuilly to
the Arc de Triomphe. He returned to some of those whom he had already
mentioned, and completed their portraits with a few characteristic
touches. Logre, he said, was one of the Thin whose belly had been placed
between his shoulders. Beautiful Lisa was all stomach, and the beautiful
Norman all bosom. Mademoiselle Saget, in her earlier life, must have
certainly lost some opportunity to fatten herself, for she detested the
Fat, while, at the same time, she despised the Thin. As for Gavard,
he was compromising his position as one of the Fat, and would end by
becoming as flat as a bug.

"And what about Madame Francois?" Florent asked.

Claude seemed much embarrassed by this question. He cast about for an
answer, and at last stammered:

"Madame Francois, Madame Francois--well, no, I really don't know; I
never thought about classifying her. But she's a dear good soul, and
that's quite sufficient. She's neither