To the right of Gamgès sat Pippand, who was acting as best man with the best dramatic flair whereof he was capable, which regrettably was not very good: he looked as if he were about to kill someone with his wineglass. Fortunately, no one noticed him at all, while Sacqueville-Danglars and Buttrebeurrousse, who sat to Samouard's left, smiled to perfection, Sacqueville-Danglars because he was sure of succeeding in his plans, Buttrebeurrousse in anticipation of the Vieux Vignobles. Next to Morrie sat Samouard's venerable and apoplectic old father, Hamphât Gamgès.
"My son knows how to do these things comme il faut," he proudly told M. Morrie. "There are some not far away" - he glanced at Sacqueville-Danglars - "who would refuse a glass of wine, or even their mistress, to their best friends, if they lived in a golden palace. Not so Samouard."
"Good old Samouard!" cried Buttrebeurrousse. "Speech! Speech!"
Samouard Gamgès rose and declaimed, his voice reverberating through the air of the café with penetrating resonance: "Eh bien, my dear Cotolons, Gamgès, Sacqueville-Dangars, Buttrebeurrousses, and in especial my patron M. Morrie," announced Gamgès. "I have called you together for two purposes. Firstly, to thank you all for this attestation of friendship you show me in coming to this humble but loving feast, and especially to Monsieur Morrie for patronizing me with such condescension, and Pippand for giving up the girl for me."