"Yes, monsieur," replied M. de Mornand, quite gravely this time, for he began to suspect that this singular proposal was only a pretext, and the longer he listened to the voice, the more certain he became that it was the same which had styled him a scoundrel. "Yes, monsieur," he continued, with mingled hauteur and assurance, "I did say, and I repeat it, that this request to act as your vis-à-vis was very remarkable on your part."
"And why, may I ask, if you do not think me too inquisitive?"
"Because—why—because it is—it is, I think, very singular that—"
Then as M. de Mornand did not finish the sentence:
"I have a rather peculiar habit, monsieur," the marquis said, lightly.
"What is it, monsieur?"
"Having the misfortune to be a hunchback and consequently an object of ridicule, I have reserved for myself the exclusive right to ridicule my deformity, and as I flatter myself I do that to the satisfaction of people in general—excuse my conceit, monsieur, I beg—I do not permit any one to do badly what I do so well myself."
"Monsieur!" exclaimed M. de Mornand, vehemently.
"Permit me to give you an example," continued the marquis in the same airy tone, "I just asked you to do me the favour to act as my vis-à-vis. Ah, well, instead of answering, 'Yes, monsieur,' or 'No, monsieur,' in a polite manner, you respond in a voice choked with laughter, 'Your request for me to act as your vis-à-vis is very remarkable.' And when I ask you to finish the sentence, you hesitate and stammer and say nothing."
"But, monsieur—"