“What is his name?”
“Vanel.”
“Vanel!” exclaimed Fouquet. “Vanel the husband of—”
“Precisely, her husband; yes, monsieur.”
“Poor fellow!” said Fouquet, with an expression of great interest.
“He wishes to be everything that you have been, monsieur,” said Gourville, “and to do everything that you have done.”
“It is very agreeable; tell us all about it, La Fontaine.”
“It is very simple. I see him occasionally, and a short time ago I met him, walking about on the Place de la Bastile, at the very moment when I was about to take the small carriage to come down here to Saint-Mande.”
“He must have been watching his wife,” interrupted Loret.
“Oh, no!” said La Fontaine, “he is far from being jealous. He accosted me, embraced me, and took me to the inn called L’Image Saint-Fiacre, and told me all about his troubles.”