If it would give you
pleasure, sir, to pay for my dinner, I shall not protest. I am the
most courteous of hosts. The smallest wish of my guests must be
gratified. However, sir, I reserve the right to order the dinner which
I am giving. You will not deny me that, I am sure."
"By no means," cried Bingle. "Order whatever you like, Rouquin. I've
never been able to order anything from a French bill-of-fare but pate-
de-foi-gras. It's your dinner, Rouquin, not mine. But, we are going
ahead too fast. We have not yet heard from Monsieur Rousseau. Will he
be willing to join us?"
"Sure," said Monsieur Jean.
"And what about the baby? Is it right for us to take a small child to
a public cafe where there may be drinking and--"
"My dear Mrs. Bingle," cried Rouquin, "pray have no thought of
Napoleon's comfort on this occasion. I shall insist upon Madame
Rousseau leaving him here--in my humble dwelling--until called for.
That is to say, in charge of my wonderful Fifi, who will care for him
completely during her absence. He shall have a stupendous supper and
he shall be put to bed happy.
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