"Oh, you've seen him? The cad!"
Her antipathy had increased. She could never now hear her cousin mentioned without being stirred by one of her gusts of honest indignation, as if she had had a personal injury to avenge.
"Certainly he's a cad," declared Lise calmly; "but it don't do any good to say so at this time of day."
She had stuck her arms a-kimbo, and now in a serious voice she asked:
"And what's Buteau got to say for himself?"
"Why, nothing," replied Jean, with some embarrassment, sorry that he hadn't kept a quiet tongue in his head. "We spoke of his affairs, on account of his father giving out everywhere that he'll disinherit him. Buteau says there's no hurry about that, for the old man's hearty enough, and that, anyway, he don't care a curse."
"Does he know that Hyacinthe and Fanny have signed the deed, whether or no, and that they're both in possession of their shares?"
"Yes, he knows; and he knows, too, that old Fouan has let his son-in-law, Delhomme, the share that he, Buteau, wouldn't have. He knows, also, that Monsieur Baillehache was in such a fury that he took an oath he'd never again have the lots drawn for before seeing the papers signed. Oh, yes; he knows that it's all over."
"Ah! And he said nothing?"
"No, he said nothing."