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- Александр Дюма
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- Три мушкетера
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- Стр. 431/849
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Mme.
Coquenard
drew
the
dish
toward
her
,
skillfully
detached
the
two
great
black
feet
,
which
she
placed
upon
her
husband
's
plate
,
cut
off
the
neck
,
which
with
the
head
she
put
on
one
side
for
herself
,
raised
the
wing
for
Porthos
,
and
then
returned
the
bird
otherwise
intact
to
the
servant
who
had
brought
it
in
,
who
disappeared
with
it
before
the
Musketeer
had
time
to
examine
the
variations
which
disappointment
produces
upon
faces
,
according
to
the
characters
and
temperaments
of
those
who
experience
it
.
In
the
place
of
the
fowl
a
dish
of
haricot
beans
made
its
appearance
--
an
enormous
dish
in
which
some
bones
of
mutton
that
at
first
sight
one
might
have
believed
to
have
some
meat
on
them
pretended
to
show
themselves
.
But
the
clerks
were
not
the
dupes
of
this
deceit
,
and
their
lugubrious
looks
settled
down
into
resigned
countenances
.
Mme.
Coquenard
distributed
this
dish
to
the
young
men
with
the
moderation
of
a
good
housewife
.
The
time
for
wine
came
.
M.
Coquenard
poured
from
a
very
small
stone
bottle
the
third
of
a
glass
for
each
of
the
young
men
,
served
himself
in
about
the
same
proportion
,
and
passed
the
bottle
to
Porthos
and
Mme.
Coquenard
.
The
young
men
filled
up
their
third
of
a
glass
with
water
;
then
,
when
they
had
drunk
half
the
glass
,
they
filled
it
up
again
,
and
continued
to
do
so
.
This
brought
them
,
by
the
end
of
the
repast
,
to
swallowing
a
drink
which
from
the
color
of
the
ruby
had
passed
to
that
of
a
pale
topaz
.
Porthos
ate
his
wing
of
the
fowl
timidly
,
and
shuddered
when
he
felt
the
knee
of
the
procurator
's
wife
under
the
table
,
as
it
came
in
search
of
his
.
He
also
drank
half
a
glass
of
this
sparingly
served
wine
,
and
found
it
to
be
nothing
but
that
horrible
Montreuil
--
the
terror
of
all
expert
palates
.
M.
Coquenard
saw
him
swallowing
this
wine
undiluted
,
and
sighed
deeply
.
