never moving them, he studied his task conscientiously. His official
letters were written with the utmost gravity, and transmitted the
commands of the minister in solemn phrases. Monsieur Phellion's face
was that of a pensive ram, with little color and pitted by the
small-pox; the lips were thick and the lower one pendent; the eyes
light-blue, and his figure above the common height. Neat and clean as a
master of history and geography in a young ladies' school ought to be,
he wore fine linen, a pleated shirt-frill, a black cashmere waistcoat,
left open and showing a pair of braces embroidered by his daughter, a
diamond in the bosom of his shirt, a black coat, and blue trousers. In
winter he added a nut-colored box-coat with three capes, and carried a
loaded stick, necessitated, he said, by the profound solitude of the
quarter in which he lived. He had given up taking snuff, and referred
to this reform as a striking example of the empire a man could
exercise over himself. Monsieur Phellion came slowly up the stairs,
for he was afraid of asthma, having what he called an "adipose chest."
He saluted Antoine with dignity.

The next to follow was a copying-clerk, who presented a strange
contrast to the virtuous Phellion. Vimeux was a young man of
twenty-five, with a salary of fifteen hundred francs, well-made and
graceful, with a romantic face, and eyes, hair, beard, and eyebrows as
black as jet, fine teeth, charming hands, and wearing a moustache so
carefully trimmed that he seemed to have made it the business and
occupation of his life. Vimeux had such aptitude for work that he
despatched it much quicker than any of the other clerks. "He has a gift,
that young man!" Phellion said of him when he saw him cross his legs and
have nothing to do for the rest of the day, having got through his
appointed task; "and see what a little dandy he is!" Vimeux breakfasted
on a roll and a glass of water, dined for twenty sous at Katcomb's, and