"But he hasn't any stockings [_bas_], just now," murmured Bastringuette, after a glance at Laboussole; "that fellow looks to me like an old pickpocket." "Not at all," said Jean Ficelle; "he's a man who used to have great talent in his line. But, you see, he has had hard luck." "What was his line?" "He was an inspector at the Market." "The devil! that's a good place; why did he lose it?" "Oh! they put up a dirty game on him--stuffed fish and chickens in his pockets, and then said he stole 'em--a low-down trick, I say! One day, when he had a salmon in one pocket and a turkey in another, they had the cheek to arrest him and dismiss him for it." "Couldn't the man tell when he had fish about him?" said Bastringuette. "Apparently not; there's so much of it at the Market that you walk on it." "All the same, his innocence looks to me almighty muddy! What does he do now?" "He sells tickets for the _Belle-en-Cuisse_ ball, on Rue des Martyrs, near the barrier. But when there's no ball, he's _smoked_, and that's the case to-day." "I say, old boy, won't you have a drink with us?" said Sans-Cravate, raising his glass toward Laboussole, who accepted the invitation as soon as he understood it, and brought his glass to the messengers' table, saying: "I never refuse a drink of wine." Bastringuette made an angry gesture, and muttered between her teeth: "What a stupid fool that Sans-Cravate is! As if we wanted that old fossil! But as soon as he has a shiner or two, he's for treating everybody he sees; so he don't keep 'em long!" Paul seemed no better pleased than Bastringuette to be at the same table with the ex-inspector, and he moved his chair away from that gentleman's, who thereupon seized the opportunity to move close to the table; and drawing toward him the dish of rabbit, in which only the head remained, he began to lap it with his tongue, humming: "'When a man knows how to love and please, What other blessing does he need?'" "Well, I think we'll have a little dessert," said Sans-Cravate; "we mustn't stop at rabbit stew.--Come, Bastringuette, what do you want for dessert?" "Sausage with garlic," replied the girl. "Agreed!--Here, waiter! four sausages with garlic, and see that they're spiced in the good old style--no, five, for Laboussole will take care of one--eh, old boy?" "I never refused a sausage," replied that individual, continuing his perquisitions into every cavity of the rabbit's head. "Good God! you're eating the eyes!" cried Jean Ficelle, who was watching Laboussole at work. "I'd eat yours, if you was stewed. I'm very fond of that tidbit." The sausages were brought. Each guest took one, except Paul, who declared that he was not hungry. Whereupon Jean Ficelle assumed his bantering air, and remarked: "They ain't sweet enough for him." And Bastringuette added: "Perhaps his skirt cutter don't like the taste of garlic!"