"Really?"
"Really."
"Well, well, did anybody ever hear the equal of that?" snorted the housekeeper, indignantly.
"But my dear Madame Barbançon, what is there so very extraordinary in what I am saying to you?"
"This," yelled the housekeeper, "this—that you are nothing more or less than a miserable old roué!"
"I?"
"Yes, a miserable scoundrel who is trying to bribe me, and make me blab all I know by promises of gold."
"But, my dear madame, I assure you—"
"But understand me once for all: if that hump of yours was stuffed with napoleons, and you authorised me to help myself to all I wanted, I wouldn't tell you a word more than I chose to. That is the kind of a woman I am!"
"But, Madame Barbançon, do pray listen to me. You are a worthy and honest woman."