did not appear to recognize one another, and addressed one another as
"sir." Marcel had to remind them that they had come together the evening
before.

At that moment old Durand entered the room.

"Sir," said he to Marcel, "it is the month of April, eighteen hundred
and forty, there is mud in the streets, and His Majesty Louis-Philippe
is still King of France and Navarre. What!" exclaimed the porter on
seeing his former tenant, "Monsieur Schaunard, how did you come here?"

"By the telegraph," replied Schaunard.

"Ah!" replied the porter, "you are still a joker--"

"Durand," said Marcel, "I do not like subordinates mingling in
conversation with me, go to the nearest restaurant and have a breakfast
for four sent up. Here is the bill of fare," he added, handing him a
slip of paper on which he had written it. "Go."

"Gentlemen," continued Marcel, addressing the three young fellows, "you
invited me to supper last night, allow me to offer you a breakfast this
morning, not in my room, but in ours," he added, holding out his hand to
Schaunard.

"Oh! no," said Schaunard sentimentally, "let us never leave one
another."

"That's right, we are very comfortable here," added Colline.