There! I have told you all I know.

We must wait, my compatriots.

We must wait." "And in the mean time," purred the voice of the Abbe Touvent, "for the digestion, Monsieur le Marquis--for the digestion." For it was one of the features of Madame de Chantonnay's Thursdays that no servants were allowed in the room; but the guests waited on each other.

If the servants, as is to be presumed, listened outside the door, they were particular not to introduce each succeeding guest without first knocking, which caused a momentary silence and added considerably to the sense of political importance of those assembled.

The Abbe Touvent made it his special care to preside over the table where small glasses of eau-de-vie d'Armagnac and other aids to digestion were set out in a careful profusion.
"It is a theory, my dear Marquis," admitted Madame de Chantonnay.