Dr. Corvisart here
would tell you that I have the slowest pulse of all his patients.'
'And that you are the fastest eater, Sire,' said a large-faced,
benevolent-looking person who had been whispering to Marshal Berthier.
'Ohe, you rascal, you rake that up against me, do you? The Doctor will
not forgive me because I tell him when I am unwell that I had rather die
of the disease than of the remedies. If I eat too fast it is the fault
of the State, which does not allow me more than a few minutes for my
meals. Which reminds me that it must be rather after my dinner hour,
Constant?'
'It is four hours after it, Sire.'
'Serve it up then at once.'
'Yes, Sire. Monsieur Isabey is outside, Sire, with his dolls.'
'Ah, we shall see them at once. Show him in.'
A man entered who had evidently just arrived from a long journey. Under
his arm he carried a large flat wickerwork basket.
'It is two days since I sent for you, Monsieur Isabey.'
'The courier arrived yesterday, Sire. I have been travelling from Paris
ever since.'
'Have you the models there?'
'Yes, Sire.
Pages:
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183