"I?"
"Yes; your Bretonne is a jade."
"Silence, abbe."
"Why silence?"
"I forbid you to say another word."
"Monseigneur, you, too, have had a dream—let me explain it."
"Monsieur Joseph, I will send you to the Bastille."
"As you please, monseigneur, but still you must know that this girl—"
"Is my daughter, abbe."
Dubois drew back stupefied.