“Bad luck!” he growled. “I would have liked that house myself.”
“Oh, I dare say you would!”
“And there is no way to get in?”
“Can’t tell. It will be well to see the others, those who have bought. But I mistrust them: they look too stupid not to be mean.”
Listening intently to the conversation of these two men, it was mechanically and at random that M. de Tregars and Maxence threw their cards on the table, and uttered the common terms of the game of piquet,
“Five cards! Tierce, major! Three aces.”
Meantime the old man was going on,
“Who knows but what M. Vincent may come back?”
“No danger of that!”
“Why?”