"And even you, Baudouin," she said, "have oft rebuked me for my hatred to the boy."
"Your son, Denise, your own flesh and blood. Aye!" he added more emphatically, "so much your own flesh and blood; that he has your character in a great measure—your energy, your enthusiasm.... Unfortunately he misapplies both...."
"To crime and disloyalty."
"Yes; there is the pity of it. He is a dangerous man, Denise," continued M. de Courson earnestly. "It were best to keep him at arm's-length."
"At arm's length," retorted Madame hotly. "My dear Baudouin, are you serious?"
"I have never been so serious in my life. I think that it is a boundless pity that you have already made overtures in the direction of the de Maurels. I would have left the whole pack of those revolutionary brigands severely alone."
He spoke with unwonted energy, for in all matters of argument M. de Courson invariably gave in to his more energetic sister. But he felt strongly on the subject, and looked as if he were determined to assert his will this time, at any rate. But Mme. la Marquise was not prepared to give in, and she broke in once more, in her authoritative way:
"I shall not leave the revolutionary brigands alone, my good Baudouin," she said. "I mean to try and win my son Ronnay over to our cause...."
"You are mad, Denise!" exclaimed M. le Comte.