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Destage—Lamarque exaggerates a little perhaps. (very seriously) He was very dear to us. (Again François laughs nervously.)

Lamarque—But what is it that Monsieur wishes to know? (Chandelle motions them to sit down. They take places at the big table and Destage produces a pipe and begins to fill it.)

François—Why, we’re four again!

Lamarque—Idiot!

Chandelle—Here, Pitou! Wine for everyone. (Pitou nods and shuffles out.) Now, Messieurs, tell me of Chandelle. Tell me of his personality.

(Lamarque looks blankly at Destage.)

Destage—Well, he was—was attractive—

Lamarque—Not to everyone.

Destage—But to us. Some thought him a sneak. (Chandelle winces.) He was a wonderful talker—when he wished, he could amuse the whole wine room. But he preferred to talk to us. (Pitou enters with a bottle and glasses. He pours and leaves the bottle on the table. Then he goes out.)

Lamarque—He was educated. God knows how.

François—(draining his glass and pouring out more) He knew everything, he could tell anything—he used to tell me poetry. Oh, what poetry! And I would listen and dream—