He paused, and seemed to be talking to himself for a moment. One would have said that his wrath had fallen into some hole, like the Rhone; then, as though he were concluding aloud the things which he had been saying to himself in a whisper, he smote the table with his fist, and shouted:⁠—

“And with his goody-goody air!”

And, apostrophizing M. Leblanc:⁠—