"Couldn't we get a mouthful somewhere?
My stomach, like Nature, abhors a vacuum." "Have we time to get a cup of coffee ?" said the artist, in a gentle voice, to Pierrotin.
"Yes, but don't be long," answered the latter.
"Good; that means we have a quarter of an hour," remarked Mistigris, with the innate genius for observation of the Paris rapin.
The pair disappeared.

Nine o'clock was striking in the hotel kitchen.
Georges thought it just and reasonable to remonstrate with Pierrotin.
"Hey! my friend; when a man is blessed with such wheels as these (striking the clumsy tires with his cane) he ought at least to have the merit of punctuality.

The deuce! one doesn't get into that thing for pleasure; I have business that is devilishly pressing or I wouldn't trust my bones to it.

And that horse, which you call Rougeot, he doesn't look likely to make up for lost time." "We are going to harness Bichette while those gentlemen take their coffee," replied Pierrotin.

"Go and ask, you," he said to his porter, "if Pere Leger is coming with us--" "Where is your Pere Leger ?" asked Georges.
"Over the way, at number 50.