at dominoes.

"I have taught him his place," said he, indicating Rodolphe, who had
returned to the same table at which Schaunard and Colline were seated.

"What a blockhead!" said Rodolphe to the two young fellows.

"He has a fine head, with his eyelids like the hood of a cabriolet, and
his eyes like glass marbles," said Schaunard, pulling out a wonderfully
coloured pipe.

"By Jupiter, sir," said Rodolphe, "that is a very pretty pipe of yours."

"Oh! I have a much finer one I wear in society," replied Schaunard,
carelessly, "pass me some tobacco, Colline."

"Hullo!" said the philosopher, "I have none left."

"Allow me to offer you some," observed Rodolphe, pulling a packet of
tobacco out of his pocket and placing it on the table.

To this civility Colline thought it his duty to respond by an offer of
glasses round.

Rodolphe accepted. The conversation turned on literature. Rodolphe,
questioned as to the profession already revealed by his garb, confessed
his relation with the Muses, and stood a second round of drinks. As the
waiter was going off with the bottle Schaunard requested him to be good
enough to forget it. He had heard the silvery tinkle of a couple of
five-franc pieces in one of Colline's pockets. Rodolphe had soon reached