No Verb

From Peter Mayle’s book Frech Lessons (imagine that as underlined), as he has had enough of the hubris of a Frenchman named Regis:

“After half an hour of this relentless crowing, I’d had enough, and I thought it was time to remind Regis of a legend that, so far at least, the French have been able to suppress.
The story goes that the bounties of France were deeply resented by her neighbors, the other Europeans. Eventually, jealous of such an overprivileged country, they got together in a rare moment of unity and decided to send their representatives to God in order to protest.
‘You have given France the best of everything,’ they said. ‘The Mediterranean Sea, the Atlantic Ocean, mountains and fertile valleys, southern sunshine and romantic northern winters,a supremely graceful language, cooking rich with the finest butter and olive oil, the most varied and productive vineyards on earth, more cheeses than there are days in the year–everything, in fact, that man could desire, and all in one country. Is this fair? Is this divine justice?’
God listened to their complaint, considering them carefully. Thinking it over, He was obliged to admit that the protesters had a point. It was possible that He had been rather generous–perhaps overgenerous–to this blessed patch called France. And so, to make up for all those unfair advantages, God created the French. The other Europeans went home happy. Justice had been served.
Regis sniffed, one of those eloquent, disdainful French sniffs. ‘Very droll,’ he said. ‘I suppose that would appeal to the English sense of humor.’
‘Actually, it was a German friend who told me the story. He thought it was funny, too.’
Another sniff. ‘What do you expect from someone who likes dumplings and sauerkraut?’ He pushed back his seat and composed himself for sleep. Even his snores had a faintly supercilious sound about them. I don’t know why I like him so much.”