The Count of Monte Cristo

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But the mysteries of nature are incomprehensible, and there are certain
invitations contained in even the coarsest food which appeal very
irresistibly to a fasting stomach. Danglars felt his own not to be very
well supplied just then, and gradually the man appeared less ugly, the
bread less black, and the cheese more fresh, while those dreadful vulgar
onions recalled to his mind certain sauces and side-dishes, which his
cook prepared in a very superior manner whenever he said, "Monsieur
Deniseau, let me have a nice little fricassee to-day." He got up and
knocked on the door; the bandit raised his head. Danglars knew that
he was heard, so he redoubled his blows. "Che cosa?" asked the bandit.
"Come, come," said Danglars, tapping his fingers against the door, "I
think it is quite time to think of giving me something to eat!" But
whether he did not understand him, or whether he had received no orders
respecting the nourishment of Danglars, the giant, without answering,
went on with his dinner. Danglars' feelings were hurt, and not wishing
to put himself under obligations to the brute, the banker threw himself
down again on his goat-skin and did not breathe another word.