"What, monsieur, can it be you that I hear speaking of my political talents when you have never neglected an opportunity to sneer at them?"
"A 'Woman's Hatred,' my dear baron, a 'Woman's Hatred'!"
And as M. de la Rochaiguë gazed at the hunchback with a bewildered air, the latter gentleman continued:
"You know, of course, that you and I belong to the same political party, my dear baron."
"I was not aware of that fact, monsieur; still, it should not surprise me. Persons of exalted rank are inevitably the born, immutable, and unwavering advocates, champions, and representatives of the traditions of the past."
"And it is for this very reason that I am so bitterly opposed to your holding a seat in the Chamber of Peers, my dear baron."
"You amaze me greatly, infinitely, prodigiously, monsieur," said the baron, hanging upon his visitor's words with breathless eagerness now.
"Can it be that M. de la Rochaiguë is really so blind, or that this mistake is due to bad advisers? I have said to myself again and again. He must, with reason, desire to bring about a return to the traditions of the past, and there cannot be the slightest doubt that he possesses many of the requisites to effect such a consummation: birth, talents, an extended knowledge of political affairs, and antecedents entirely free of any troublesome entanglements—"
When this enumeration of his political qualifications began, M. de la Rochaiguë might have been seen to smile almost imperceptibly, but when the hunchback paused to take breath, the baron's long teeth were exposed to view.
Noting this sure sign of internal satisfaction, the marquis continued: