t Barty proposed they should treat
themselves for once to a "prix-fixe" dinner at Carmagnol's, in the
Passage Choiseul, where they gave you hors-d'oeuvres, potage, three
courses and dessert and a bottle of wine, for two francs fifty--and
everything scrupulously clean.

So to the Passage Choiseul they went; but just on the threshold of
the famous restaurant (which filled the entire arcade with its
appetizing exhalations) Bonzig suddenly remembered, to his great
regret, that close by there lived a young married couple of the name
of Lousteau, who were great friends of his, and who expected him to
dine with them at least once a week.

"I haven't been near them for a fortnight, mon cher, and it is just
their dinner hour. I am afraid I must really just run in and eat an
_aile de poulet_ and a _peche au vin_ with them, and give them of my
news, or they will be mortally offended. I'll be back with you just
when you are '_entre la poire et le fromage_'--so, sans adieu!" and
he bolted.

Barty went in and selected his menu; and waiting for his
hors-d'oeuvre, he just peeped out of the door and looked up and
down the arcade, which was always festive and lively at that hour.

To his great surprise he saw Bonzig leisurely flaning about with his
cigarette in his mouth, his hands in his pockets, his long
spectacled nose in the air--gazing at the shop windows. Suddenly the
good man dived into a baker's shop, and came out again in half a
minute with a large brown roll, and began to munch it--still gazing
at the shop windows, and apparently quite content.

Barty rushed after and caught hold of him, and breathlessly heaped
bitter reproaches on him for his base and unfriendly want of
confidence--snatched his roll and threw it away, dragged him by main
force into Carmagnol's, and made him order the dinner he preferred
and sit opposite.

"Ma foi, mon cher!" said Bonzig--"I own to you that I am almost at
the end of my resources for the moment--and also that the prospect
of a good dinner in your amiable company is the reverse of
disagreeable to me. I thank you in advance, with all my heart!"

"My dear M'sieur Bonzig," says Barty, "you will wound me deeply if
you don't look on me like a brother, as I do you; I can't tell you
how deeply you _have_ wounded me already! Give me your word of honor
that you will share ma mangeaille with me till I haven't a sou
left!"

And so they made it up, and had a capital dinner and a capital
evening,