"You had better," said Fraisier. "Your course will save expense to
you, for your contention would not be made good. The lease is
evidence--"
"The lease! the lease!" cried Villemot, "it is a question of good
faith--"
"That could only be proved in a criminal case, by calling witnesses.
--Do you mean to plunge into experts' fees and verifications, and
orders to show cause why judgment should not be given, and law
proceedings generally?"
"No, no!" cried Schmucke in dismay. "I shall turn out; I am used to
it--"
In practice Schmucke was a philosopher, an unconscious cynic, so
greatly had he simplified his life. Two pairs of shoes, a pair of
boots, a couple of suits of clothes, a dozen shirts, a dozen bandana
handkerchiefs, four waistcoats, a superb pipe given to him by Pons,
with an embroidered tobacco-pouch--these were all his belongings.
Overwrought by a fever of indignation, he went into his room and piled
his clothes upon a chair.
"All dese are mine," he said, with simplicity worthy of Cincinnatus.
"Der biano is also mine."
Fraisier turned to La Sauvage. "Madame, get help," he said; "take that
piano out and put it on the landing."
"You are too rough into the bargain," said Villemot, addressing
Fraisier. "The justice of the peace gives orders here; he is supreme."
"There are valuables in the room," put in the clerk.
"And besides," added the justice of the peace, "M. Schmucke is going
out of his own free will.
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