noon
`` Ho , M. le Marquis ! the Zouaves have drunk all my wine up ; fill me my keg with yours for once -- the very best burgundy , mind . I 'm half afraid your cellar will hurt my reputation . '' The chamber was very handsome , hung and furnished in the very best Paris fashion , and all glittering with amber and ormolu and velvets ; in it half a dozen men -- officers of the cavalry -- were sitting over their noon breakfast , and playing at lansquenet at the same time . The table was crowded with dishes of every sort , and wines of every vintage ; and the fragrance of their bouquet , the clouds of smoke , and the heavy scent of the orange blossom without , mingled together in an intense perfume . He whom she addressed , M. le Marquis de Chateauroy , laughed , and looked up . `` Ah , is it thee , my pretty brunette ?