“That roast sucking pig on the Rue St. Honoré⁠—is it there yet?” continued Trent.

“Wh⁠—at?” stammered the feeble one.

“Ah⁠—I thought so! I caught you in ecstasy before that sucking pig at least a dozen times!”

Then laughing, he presented Fallowby with a roll of twenty franc pieces saying, “If these go for luxuries you must live on your own flesh,” and went over to aid West, who sat beside the washbasin binding up his hand.

West suffered him to tie the knot, and then said: “You remember, yesterday, when I left you and Braith to take the chicken to Colette.”

“Chicken! Good heavens!” moaned Fallowby.

“Chicken,” repeated West, enjoying Fallowby’s grief;⁠—“I⁠—that is, I must explain that things are changed. Colette and I⁠—are to be married⁠—”