“ A présent c’est un fait accompli ,” 186 said he, readjusting his paletôt ; and we had no more words on the subject. After looking over the two volumes he had brought, and cutting away some pages with his penknife (he generally pruned before lending his books, especially if they were novels, and sometimes I was a little provoked at the severity of his censorship, the retrenchments interrupting the narrative), he rose, politely touched his bonnet-grec , and bade me a civil good day.

“We are friends now,” thought I, “till the next time we quarrel.”

We might have quarrelled again that very same evening, but, wonderful to relate, failed, for once, to make the most of our opportunity.