"
"Then go to a watering-place."
"Like a minister who is in disgrace; no, thank you."
"Go home to your own country; you are suffering from homesickness."
"Yes, there you are right! The air here does not suit me."
"You are beginning to get stout."
"What do you mean by that?"
"And the Marquises are longing for you."
"Are they? What nonsense you talk! But I must have a watering-place."
"Well, take Plombieres! There you will meet the court."
"That is an excellent idea! Plombieres! But I will return, of
course."
"Of course!"
"I will be back in three weeks--let us say a month. If only the King
will not be vexed...."
"Let me assure you, the King will console himself."
"Yes, yes, I will consider the matter. But say--he is not angry
with me?"
"Who?"
"The King!"
"He is not angry with you, otherwise he would have been so long ago!
No, you are belated in thinking that."
"Give me a sleeping powder, and then you can go."
The doctor took the powder, and poured it in a glass of water.
The old man drank, but his large eyes followed the changing
expressions of the doctor's face, who looked very amused. He did not
altogether trust him.
"Monsieur Voltaire," said the doctor, "when you make a fire in the
oven, draw up the small oven-shutters, else there is too much smoke.
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