“You are nobody’s valet.”
“Is Pascal my valet?”
“No, no, Manassa! There now, don’t ask any more questions.”
“I do not wish to ask any more. I have heard all that I care to. I am going into the garden to take a walk. Run into my room, Clarine, and get me my other cane. It is not proper that the master of the house should walk out with an old stick like this,” and he threw his oaken staff upon the floor.
“Do hear the man talk,” said Clarine—“as if I could run.”
“I will go,” said Vivienne. “Sit still, Clarine.”
When Vivienne had gone, Manassa said: “How tall she is! How she has grown! She is almost as tall as Susette.”
“Why, Manassa, I haven’t heard you speak Susette’s name in ever so long,” said Clarine.
Manassa chuckled. “Do you remember, Clarine, the minuet we had that night over in the new barn at Prospero Point? My stars, how Susette did throw those black eyes at me that evening! I really do believe that the girl loved me, Clarine. Now, don’t you think she did?”
Clarine placed her hand upon Manassa’s arm. “Why, to be sure, else why did she marry you? For mercy’s sake! You can’t have forgotten that Susette Cornelli became your wife!”