"My first is the first of all--yes." "_Mon second n'a pas de second._" "My second has no second--yes." "_Mon tout_"-- (turning his long, sleepy eyes sentimentally toward me)--"_je ne saurai vous le dire._" "My whole--I cannot tell it you!--then why on earth did you ask me ?" cry I, breaking out into hearty, wholesome laughter.
Again he blackens.
"Well, have you guessed it ?" "Guessed it!" I echo, recovering my gravity.

"Not I!--my first is the first of all--my second has no second--my whole, I cannot tell it you!--I do not believe it is a riddle at all! it is a hoax--a take-in, like 'Why does a miller wear a white hat ?'" "It is nothing of the kind," he answers, looking thoroughly annoyed.
"Must I tell you the answer ?" "I shall certainly never arrive at it by my unassisted genius," I reply, yawning.

"Ah! there is M.Dom going out riding! Alas! never again shall I see him mount that peacocking steed!" "It is 'Adieu!'" says my companion, blurting it out in a rage, seeing that I _will_ not be interested in or excited by it.
"_Adieu!_" repeat I, standing with my mouth wide open, looking perfectly blank.

"_How ?_" "You do not see ?" he says.

(His face has grown scarlet.) "Well, you must excuse me for saying that you are rather--" He breaks off and begins again, very fast this time.