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Updated: October 3, 2026
Meanwhile the conversation of Messieurs Droz and Lepany had taken a fresh turn, and attracted a little circle of listeners, among whom I observed an eccentric-looking young man with a club-foot, an enormously long neck, and a head of short, stiff, dusty hair, like the bristles of a blacking-brush. "Queroulet!" said Lepany, with a contemptuous flourish of his pipe. "Who spoke of Queroulet?
Lepany, Droz, myself, and one or two others, flew at the stranger and dragged him forcibly back. "Assassin!" I cried, "would you murder him?" He flung us off, as a baited bull flings off a pack of curs. For myself, though I received only a backhanded blow on the chest, I staggered as if I had been struck with a sledgehammer. Müller, half-fainting, dropped into a chair.
"With the obscurity of Erebus!" said, very deliberately, a fat student in a blouse. "Monsieur!" exclaimed De Lepany, measuring the length and breadth of the fat student with a glance of withering scorn. The Byzantine was no less indignant. "Don't heed them, mon ami!" he cried, enthusiastically. "Thy definition is sublime-eloquent!"
"They must be ideally treated, Monsieur Valentin," replied Lepany, majestically. "No doubt; but what will they be like when they are ideally treated? Will they still, to the vulgar eye, be recognisable for trees and men and straws?"