Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/97

had to remind them that they had come together the evening before.

At that moment old Durand entered the room.

“Sir,” said he to Marcel, “it is the month of April, eighteen hundred and forty, there is mud in the streets, and His Majesty Louis-Philippe is still King of France and Navarre. What!” exclaimed the porter on seeng his former tenant, “Monsieur Schaunard, how did you come here?”

“By the telegraph,” replied Schaunard.

“Ah!” replied the porter, “ you are still a joker—”

“Durand,” said Marcel, “I do not like subordinates mingling in conversation with me; go to the nearest restaurant and have a breakfast for four sent up. Here is the bill of fare,” he added, handing him a slip of paper on which he had written it. “Go.”

“Gentlemen,” continued Marcel, addressing the three young fellows, “you invited me to supper last night; allow me to offer you a breakfast this morning, not in my room, but in ours,” he added, holding out his hand to Schaunard.

At the close of the repast Rodolphe asked permission to speak.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “allow me to leave you.”

“Oh! no,” said Schaunard sentimentally, “let us never leave one another.”

“That’s right, we are very comfortable here,” added Colline.

“To leave you for a moment,” continued Rodolphe. “To-morrow the ‘Scarf of Iris,’ a fashion paper of which I am editor, appears, and I must go and correct my proofs, I will be back in an hour.”

“The deuce!” said Colline; “that reminds me that I