You have put my eye almost out.

Do you imagine that I am well provided for like yourself and have nothing to do but to flirt with girls?
I need my eyes in order to work, by God! Because you are a bourgeois and I am a workman--" "I am not more of a bourgeois than you," replied the artist, rather glad to see his adversary's fury exhaust itself in words, and his attitude assume a less threatening character; "pick up your compass and return to your work.

Here," he added, taking two five-franc pieces from his pocket.

"You were a little boorish and I a little hasty.

Go and bathe your eyes with a glass of wine." Lambernier scowled and his eyes darted ugly, hateful glances.