I was warming myself, for it is very cold, and the ground is covered
with snow, which is not good for the apricot trees. M. Guizot, leaning
against the mantelpiece, was saying to me:
“As a member of the dramatic prize committee, I read yesterday, in a
single day, mind you, no fewer than six plays!”
“That,” I responded, “was to punish you for not having seen one acted in
eighteen years.”
At this moment M. Thiers came up and the two men exchanged greetings.
This is how they did it: