Chapter 59

“It was the fruiterer,” replied my friend, “who brought you to the conclusion that the mender of soles was not of sufficient height for Xerxes _et id genus omne_.” “The fruiterer!—you astonish me—I know no fruiterer whomsoever.” “The man who ran up against you as we entered the street—it may have been fifteen minutes ago.” I now remembered that, in fact, a fruiterer, carrying upon his head a large basket of apples, had nearly thrown me down, by accident, as we passed from the Rue C—— i…