Madame Latournelle, half-crazed with joy at
seeing the gorgeous carriage at her door, with footmen in royal livery
letting down the steps, was too agitated on hearing that the grand
equerry had called for her, to find her gloves, her parasol, her
absurdity, or her usual air of pompous dignity. Once in the carriage,
however, and while expressing confused thanks and civilities to the
little duke, she suddenly exclaimed, from a thought in her kind
heart,--
"But Butscha, where is he?"
"Let us take Butscha," said the duke, smiling.
When the people on the quays, attracted in groups by the splendor of
the royal equipage, saw the funny spectacle, the three little men with
the spare gigantic woman, they looked at one another and laughed.
"If you melt all three together, they might make one man fit to mate
with that big cod-fish," said a sailor from Bordeaux.
"Is there any other thing you would like to take with you, madame?"
asked the duke, jestingly, while the footman awaited his orders.
"No, monseigneur," she replied, turning scarlet and looking at her
husband as much as to say, "What did I do wrong?"
"Monsieur le duc honors me by considering that I am a thing," said
Butscha; "a poor clerk is usually thought to be a nonentity.
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