"Yes, I think so, too," said Louis, almost sadly.
"Why do you speak so mournfully, Louis? One would suppose that you had just made some terrible discovery. What is the matter with you? What is the meaning of those tears I saw in your eyes a little while ago? And of that exclamation, 'I am very miserable!' You miserable, and why?"
"Do not ridicule me, my friend. The truth is, I love, and I have been deceived."
"You have a rival, then, I suppose."
"Yes, and, to crown my misfortunes, this rival—"
"Go on."
"Is this rascally usurer."
"Porquin, that old scoundrel! The girl prefers him to you? Impossible! But what leads you to suppose—"
"Several suspicious circumstances; besides, he says so."
"Fine authority that! He lies, I am certain of it."