Aha! _le jour viendra--le jour viendra_! Conjuror! who speaks of a conjuror?
I never was a conjuror! I deny it: and he lies who says it! _Attendons_! Is the curtain up?
Ah! my table--where is my table?
I cannot play till I have my table.
_Scelerats! je suis vole! je l'ai perdu! je l'ai perdu_! Ah, what shall I do?
What shall I do?
They have taken my table--they have taken...." He burst into tears, moaned twice or thrice, closed his eyes, and fell into a troubled sleep.
The landlady sobbed.

Hers was a kind heart, and the little Frenchman's simple courtesy had won her good-will from the first.
"He had real quality manners," she said, disconsolately.

"I do believe, gentlemen, that he had seen better days.

Poor as he was, he never disputed the price of anything; and he never spoke to me without taking off his hat." "Upon my soul, Mistress Cobbe," said my father, "I incline to your opinion.

I do think he is not what he seems." "And if I only knew where to find his friends, I shouldn't care half so much!" exclaimed the landlady.