noon
a partridge -- _ que voulez-vous , mon cher ? _ '' he concluded , with a shrug . `` It is quite impossible -- _ quite _ impossible . '' I told him leisurely , as we sipped our liqueur , of the hunting in my own country , of the lonely tramps in the wilderness following a line of traps in the deep snow , the blind trails , the pork sandwich melted against the doughnuts at noon , leaking lean-tos , smoky fires , and bad coffee . '' _ Parbleu ! _ '' he roared . `` You have not zee rendezvous ?