Laurent, sitting on the edge of the stone balustrade, with his arms folded over his chest and a sinister scowl upon his face, did not vouchsafe an answer to the direct query.
"We have been as far as the silent pool," continued Fernande unconcernedly.
"It is a short walk from Courson," rejoined de Maurel.
"A very long one, I think ... over six kilomètres."
"Over six kilomètres.... Yes."
"Therefore, we have never been further than the pool."
Yet another pause. Madame la Marquise had resumed her knitting. M. de Courson tried not to appear ill at ease, and Laurent, whose exasperation became more and more obvious every moment, jumped down from the balustrade and began pacing up and down the veranda, hoping thereby to keep his nerves under control.
"But from the distance I have seen the smoke of your foundries, mon cousin," again resumed Fernande, wholly unperturbed.
"!!"
"I have never seen the interior of a foundry in my life."