corner of the two rooms. After an hour's search, he realized a costume
thus composed:

A pair of plaid trousers, a gray hat, a red cravat, a blue waistcoat,
two boots, one black glove, and one glove that had been white.

"That will make two black gloves on a pinch," said Schaunard. "You are
going to look like the solar spectrum in that dress. To be sure, a
colourist such as you are--"

Marcel was trying the boots. Alas! They are both for the same foot! The
artist, in despair, perceived an old boot in a corner which had served
as the receptacle of their empty bladders. He seized upon it.

"From Garrick to Syllable," said his jesting comrade, "one square-toed
and the other round."

"I am going to varnish them and it won't show."

"A good idea! Now you only want the dress-coat."

"Oh!" cried Marcel, biting his fists:

"To have one would I give ten years of life,
And this right hand, I tell thee."

They heard another knock at the door. Marcel opened it.

"Monsieur Schaunard?" inquired a stranger, halting on the threshold.