"There is nothing more to drink here, and we are all thirsty." "Yes," said Schaunard, "bottles are so small." "Well," continued Marcel, "Rodolphe has decided that we shall pass the night here, but we must go and get something before the shops are shut." "My grocer lives at the corner of the street," said Rodolphe. "Do you mind going there, Schaunard? You can fetch two bottles of rum, to be put down to me." "Oh! yes, certainly," said Schaunard, making a mistake in his greatcoat and taking that of Colline, who was tracing figures on the table cloth with his knife. "One," said Marcel, when Schaunard had gone. "Now let us tackle Colline, that will be a harder job. Ah! an idea. Hi, hi, Colline," he continued, shaking the philosopher. "What? what? what is it?" "Schaunard has just gone, and has taken your hazel overcoat by mistake." Colline glanced round again, and perceived indeed in the place of his garment, Schaunard's little plaid overcoat. A sudden idea flashed across his mind and filled him with uneasiness. Colline, according to his custom, had been book-hunting during the day, and had bought for fifteen sous a Finnish grammar and a little novel of Nisard's entitled "The Milkwoman's Funeral." These two acquisitions were accompanied by seven or eight volumes of philosophy that he had always about him as an arsenal whence to draw reasons in case of an argument. The idea of this library being in the hands of Schaunard threw him into a cold perspiration. "The wretch!" exclaimed Colline, "what did he take my greatcoat for?" "It was by mistake." "But my books. He may put them to some improper purpose." "Do not be afraid, he will not read them," said Rodolphe. "No, but I know him; he is capable of lighting his pipe with them." "If you are uneasy you can catch him up," said Rodolphe. "He has only just this moment gone out, you will overtake him at the street door." "Certainly I will overtake him," replied Colline, putting on his hat, the brim of which was so broad that tea for six people might have been served upon it. "Two," said Marcel to Rodolphe, "now you are free. I am off, and I will tell the porter not to open the outer door if anyone knocks." "Goodnight and thanks," said Rodolphe. As he was showing his friend out Rodolphe heard on the staircase a prolonged mew, to which his carroty cat replied by another, whilst trying at the same time to slip out adroitly by the half-opened door. "Poor Romeo!" said Rodolphe, "there is his Juliet calling him. Come, off with you," he added opening the door to the enamored beast, who made a single leap down the stairs into its lover's arms.