"I am in my dotage," muttered Taverney, "unless we have a ghost here."
"Who can tell?" returned Balsamo, with so grave an accent that he subjugated the lady and made Nicole stare.
"But if you were living at the Siege, you were a child of four or
five."
"I was over forty."
The baron laughed and Nicole echoed him.
"You do not believe me. It is plain, though, for I was not the man I am."
"This is a bit of antiquity," said the French noble. "Was there not a Greek philosopher—these vile philosophers seem to be of all ages—who would not eat beans because they contained souls, like the negress, according to my son? What the deuse was his name?"
"That is the gentleman."