“Be it so, if you insist upon it. What do you ask for Favoral?”
“I demand, not for Favoral, but for the stockholders who have been impudently defrauded, the twelve millions which are missing from the funds of the Mutual Credit.”
Mme. de Thaller burst out laughing.
“Only that?” she said.
“Yes, only that!”
“Well, then, it seems to me that you should present your reclamations to M. Favoral himself. You have the right to run after him.”
“It is useless, for the reason that it is not he, the poor fool! who has carried off the twelve millions.”
“Who is it, then?”
“M. le Baron de Thaller, no doubt.”
With that accent of pity which one takes to reply to an absurd proposition,—“You are mad, my poor marquis,” said Mme. de Thaller.