Bixiou.  “Don’t you think all that is a little too florid?  I should tone down the poetry.  ‘Imperial idol!’ ‘bent the knee!’ damn it, my dear fellow, writing vaudevilles has ruined your style; you can’t come down to pedestrial prose.  I should say, ’He belonged to the small number of those who.’  Simplify, simplify! the man himself was a simpleton.”

Du Bruel.  “That’s vaudeville, if you like!  You would make your fortune at the theatre, Bixiou.”

Bixiou.  “What have you said about Quiberon?” [Reads over du Bruel’s shoulder.] “Oh, that won’t do!  Here, this is what you must say:  ’He took upon himself, in a book recently published, the responsibility for all the blunders of the expedition to Quiberon,—­thus proving the nature of his loyalty, which did not shrink from any sacrifice.’  That’s clever and witty, and exalts La Billardiere.”

Du Bruel.  “At whose expense?”

Bixiou [solemn as a priest in a pulpit].  “Why, Hoche and Tallien, of course; don’t you read history?”

Du Bruel.  “No.  I subscribed to the Baudouin series, but I’ve never had time to open a volume; one can’t find matter for vaudevilles there.”

Phellion [at the door].  “We all want to know, Monsieur Bixiou, what made you think that the worthy and honorable Monsieur Rabourdin, who has so long done the work of this division for Monsieur de la Billardiere,—­he, who is the senior head of all the bureaus, and whom, moreover, the minister summoned as soon as he heard of the departure of the late Monsieur de la Billardiere,—­will not be appointed head of the division.”

Bixiou.  “Papa Phellion, you know geography?”

Phellion [bridling up].  “I should say so!”

Bixiou.  “And history?”

Phellion [affecting modesty].  “Possibly.”

Bixiou [looking fixedly at him].  “Your diamond pin is loose, it is coming out.  Well, you may know all that, but you don’t know the human heart; you have gone no further in the geography and history of that organ than you have in the environs of the city of Paris.”

Poiret [to Vimeux].  “Environs of Paris?  I thought they were talking of
Monsieur Rabourdin.”

Bixiou.  “About that bet?  Does the entire bureau Rabourdin bet against me?”

All.  “Yes.”

Bixiou.  “Du Bruel, do you count in?”

Du Bruel.  “Of course I do.  We want Rabourdin to go up a step and make room for others.”

Bixiou.  “Well, I accept the bet,—­for this reason; you can hardly understand it, but I’ll tell it to you all the same.  It would be right and just to appoint Monsieur Rabourdin” [looking full at Dutocq], “because, in that case, long and faithful service, honor, and talent would be recognized, appreciated, and properly rewarded.  Such an appointment is in the best interests of the administration.” [Phellion, Poiret, and Thuillier listen stupidly, with the look of those who try to peer before them in the