I was looking for a glove!
PICKPOCKET (smiling).
And you find a hand. (Aside and rapidly.) Let me go and I'll tell you a secret.
CHRISTIAN (still holding him).
What secret?
PICKPOCKET.
Lignière, who has just left you, is going to his death. A song of his gave offence to.... some great man, and one hundred men, I know it, will lie in wait for him to-night....
CHRISTIAN (still holding on).
One hundred! Paid by whom?
PICKPOCKET.