"You did me the honour to call me, M. le marquis."
"Yes, I did you that honour, monsieur," replied the marquis, sardonically, and without taking the trouble to rise from his seat; "and yet you are not at all polite to me, nor to the other persons who happen to have the pleasure of your company."
On hearing these words, quite a number of persons gathered around the two men, for the satirical and aggressive spirit of the marquis was well known.
"I do not understand you, M. le marquis," replied M. de Macreuse, much annoyed, and evidently fearing; some disagreeable explanation. "So far as I know I have not been lacking in respect towards you or any other person present."
"I hear that you have had the misfortune to lose your mother, monsieur," said the marquis, in his rather shrill, penetrating voice.
"Monsieur," stammered M. de Macreuse, apparently stupefied by these words.
"Would it be indiscreet in me to ask when you lost madame, your mother—if you know."
"Monsieur!" faltered this model young man, blushing scarlet. "Such a question—"
"Is very natural, it seems to me, besides being rendered almost necessary by the lack of respect of which I complain, not only in my own name, but in the name of all your acquaintances."
"Lack of respect?"