The proprietor of the establishment, in dingy shirt-sleeves, set down the beer before him.
Hegisippe, who had mixed his absinthe and was waiting politely until their new friend should be served, raised his glass.
"Just before you came, Monsieur," said he, "I was about to drink to the health--" "Of _L'Armee-Francaise_," interrupted Septimus, reaching out his glass.
"But no," laughed Hegisippe.

"It was to Monsieur, Madame, et Bebe." "Bebe ?" cried Sypher, and Septimus felt his clear, swift glance read his soul.
They clinked glasses.

Hegisippe, defying the laws governing the absorption of alcohols, tossed off his absinthe in swashbuckler fashion, and rose.
"Now I leave you.

You have many things to talk about.

My respectful compliments to Madame.