"I say, what about your Robineau?" a salesman suddenly asked Hutin.
The struggle between the men of the silk department and their second-hand occupied all the counters. The question was discussed every evening at the Café Saint-Roch until midnight. Hutin, who was busy with his piece of beef, contented himself with replying:
"Well! he's come back." Then, suddenly getting angry, he resumed: "But confound it! I really believe they've given me a slice of donkey! It's become disgusting, my word of honour!"
"You needn't grumble!" said Favier. "I was flat enough to ask for skate. It's putrid."
They were all speaking at once, some complaining and some joking. At a corner of the table, against the wall, sat Deloche silently eating. He was afflicted with a ravenous appetite, which he had never b
