The dispute grew more and more bitter, till the landlord went upstairs, swearing that he would be paid, and that no one should stir until he was.

Colline endeavored to interpose his pacifying oratory; but, on perceiving a napkin which Colline had made lint of, the host's anger redoubled; and to indemnify himself, he actually dared to lay profane hands on the philosopher's hazel overcoat and the ladies' shawls.
A volley of abuse was interchanged by the Bohemians and the irate landlord.
The women talked to one another of their dresses and their conquests.
At this point the stranger abandoned his impassible attitude; gradually he rose, made a step forward, then another, and walked as an ordinary man might do; he approached the landlord, took him aside, and spoke to him in a low tone.

Rodolphe and Marcel followed him with their eyes.

At length, the host went out, saying to the stranger: "Certainly, I consent, Monsieur Barbemuche, certainly; arrange it with them yourself." Monsieur Barbemuche returned to his table to take his hat; put it on, turned around to the right, and in three steps came close to Rodolphe and Marcel.

He took off his hat, bowed to the men, waved a salute to the women, pulled out his handkerchief, blew his nose, and began in a feeble voice: "Gentlemen, excuse the liberty I am about to take.