"Mille tonnerres, Madame la Comtesse," roared the General, striding up to her chair—"they have married this man's son to your daughter. My congratulations on the splendid match. Ange de la Marinière and Hélène de Sainfoy—a pretty couple—but by all that's sacred their happiness shall not last long!"
"Hush, hush! Go away, for God's sake," cried Urbain. "You brute, you are killing her."
Adélaïde's eyelids had dropped, and she lay back unconscious.
There were people in the room, a confusion of voices, of wondering exclamations. Then, through the thickening crowd, Hervé de Sainfoy and Georges pushed their way, white and excited, followed by Mademoiselle Moineau, whose trembling limbs could hardly carry her.
The Comte de Sainfoy and General Ratoneau met face to face, and exchanged a few low words as Ratoneau walked out.
"You are a pretty host, Monsieur le Comte!"
"I have taught you a lesson, I hope, Monsieur le Général. I shall have no more interference with my family affairs."
"Sapristi! it is a new thing for you, is it not, to pose as the head of your own family? How did His Majesty's intention come to your knowledge? I am curious to know that."
"Let me ask you to leave my house. You shall hear from me. We will settle our affairs another day."
"Ah! You had better consult Madame la Comtesse. She is not pleased with you."