n now being
served, the strong fumes of which filled the room with a resinous smell.

'Do you smell that?' exclaimed Sandoz, amused; 'one would think one were
swallowing all the forests of Russia.'

But Claude returned to the matter which worried him.

'Then you say that Fagerolles will be entrusted with the paintings for
the Municipal Council's assembly room?'

And this remark sufficed; Mahoudeau and Gagniere, set on the track, at
once started off again. Ah! a nice wishy-washy smearing it would be
if that assembly room were allotted to him; and he was doing plenty of
dirty things to get it. He, who had formerly pretended to spit on
orders for work, like a great artist surrounded by amateurs, was basely
cringing to the officials, now that his pictures no longer sold.
Could anything more despicable be imagined than a painter soliciting
a functionary, bowing and scraping, showing all kinds of cowardice and
making all kinds of concessions? It was shameful that art should be
dependent upon a Minister's idiotic good pleasure! Fagerolles, at that
official dinner he had gone to, was no doubt conscientiously licking the
boots of some chief clerk, some idiot who was only fit to be made a guy
of.

'Well,' said Jory, 'he effects his purpose, and he's quite right. _You_
won't pay his debts.'

'Debts? Have I any debts, I who have always starved?' answered Mahoudeau
in a roughly arrogant tone. 'Ought a fellow to build himself a palace
and spend money on creatures like that Irma Becot, who's ruining
Fagerolles?'

At this Jory grew angry, while the others jested, and Irma's name went
flying over the table. But Mathilde, who had so far remained reserved
and silent by way of making a show of good breeding, became intensely
indignant. 'Oh! gentlemen, oh! gentlemen,' she exclaimed, 'to talk
before _us_ about that creature. No, not that creature, I implore you!

After that Henriette and Sandoz, who were in consternation, witnessed
the rout of their menu. The truffle salad, the ice, the dessert,
everything was swallowed without being at all appreciated amidst the
rising anger of the quarrel; and the chambertin and sparkling moselle
were imbibed as if they had merely been water. In vain did Henriette
smile, while Sandoz good-naturedly tried to calm them by making
allowances for human weakness. Not one of them retreated from his
position; a single word made them spring upon each other. There was
none of the vague boredom, the somnife