"You do not realise what you are saying."
"Yes, I do."
"No, you do not."
"Olivier!"
"Oh, you may rebel as much as you please, but I tell you that your conduct, now as ever, shall be that of a man of honour. You will go to this ball to meet Mlle. de Beaumesnil."
"I'll be d—— d if I will. I am at liberty to do as I please, I think, monsieur."
"No, Gerald, you are not at liberty to do anything that is dishonest or dishonourable."
"Do you know that what you are saying—" began the young duke, pale with anger; but seeing the expression of sorrowful astonishment on Olivier's features, Gerald became ashamed of his outburst, and, extending his hand to his friend, he said, in an almost beseeching voice:
"Forgive me, Olivier, forgive me! To think that almost at the very moment that you are undertaking the gravest and most delicate mission for me, I should so far forget myself—"
"Come, come, you needn't go to making excuses," said Olivier, preventing his friend from continuing by affectionately pressing his hand.