The conversation seemed at an end when the chemist thought fit to shoot a Parthian arrow.
“I’ve known priests who put on ordinary clothes to go and see dancers kicking about.”
“Come, come!” said the curé.
“Ah! I’ve known some!” And separating the words of his sentence, Homais repeated, “I—have—known—some!”
“Well, they were wrong,” said Bournisien, resigned to anything.
“By Jove! they go in for more than that,” exclaimed the druggist.
“Sir!” replied the ecclesiastic, with such angry eyes that the druggist was intimidated by them.
“I only mean to say,” he replied in less brutal a tone, “that toleration is the surest way to draw people to religion.”
“That is true! that is true!” agreed the good fellow, sitting down again on his chair. But he stayed only a few moments.
Then, as soon as he had gone, Monsieur Homais said to