born in the saddle, his father is an eagle, his grandsire was a
centaur. And don't forget the grey cloak, lad, the apple of my eye,
the admiration of the ladies, and the confusion of mine enemies; my own
particular grey cloak." By this time the Chevalier was getting into
his clothes; fine cambrics, silk hose, velvet pantaloons, grey doublet,
and shoes with buckles and red heels.

"But the grey cloak, Monsieur Paul . . ." began the lackey.

"What! you have dared to soil it?"

"No, Monsieur; but you have forgotten that you loaned it to Monsieur de
Saumaise, prior to your departure to Italy. He has not returned it."

"That's not like Victor. And I had dreamed of wearing that cloak.
Mademoiselle complimented me on it, and that fop De Montausier asked me
how many pistoles I paid for it."

"The purple cloak is new, Monsieur. It is fully as handsome as the
grey one. All it lacks is the square collar you invented."

"Ah well, since there is no grey cloak. Now the gossip. First of all,
my debts and debtors."

"Monsieur de Saumaise," said Breton, "has remitted the ten louis he
lost to you at tennis."

"There's a friend; ruined himself to do it. Poetry and improvidence;
how they cling together!"