I suppose there was something in my tone that caught his attention, for his scornful air was superseded by an intent puzzled gaze, and his next question was put in lower tones:
“What did you stay in Avranches for?”
“Because your wife asked me,” said I. The answer was true enough, but, as I wished to deal candidly with him, I added: “And, later on, Mlle. Delhasse expressed a similar desire.”
“My wife and Mlle. Delhasse! Truly you are a favorite!”
“Honest men happen to be scarce in this neighborhood,” said I. I was becoming rather angry.
“If you are one, I hope to be able to make them scarcer by one more,” said the duke.
“Well, we needn’t wrangle over it any more,” said I; and I sat down on the lid of a chest that stood by the hearth. But the duke sprang forward and seized me by the arm, crying again in ungovernable rage:
“Where is she?”
“She is safe from you, I hope.”
“Aye—and you’ll keep her safe!”