“Ah!”
“I am sent to him by the Duc de Sairmeuse, my father.”
Knowing what he did, Maurice supposed that these strangely rapacious individuals had some new demand to make.
“I thought,” said he, “that all relations between Monsieur Lacheneur and Monsieur de Sairmeuse were broken off last evening at the house of the abbe.”
This was said in the most provoking manner, and yet Martial never so much as frowned. He had sworn that he would remain calm, and he had strength enough to keep his word.
“If these relations—as God forbid—have been broken off,” he replied, “believe me, Monsieur d’Escorval, it is no fault of ours.”
“Then it is not as people say?”
“What people? Who?”
“The people here in the neighborhood.”
“Ah! And what do these people say?”