"Yet," said the viscount, with a laugh, "there is usually a singular curiosity on the part of those who lend money to know what is done with it."
"Parbleu! Saint-Remy," said M. d'Harville, "you have such exquisite taste, that you must help me to choose the ornament I intend for my wife. Your approbation will consecrate my choice; your decisions are sovereign in all that concerns the fashion."
The jeweller entered, bringing with him several caskets of gems in a large leather bag.
"Ah, it is M. Baudoin!" said M. de Lucenay.
"I am sure that it is you who ruined my wife with your dazzling and infernal temptations," said M. de Lucenay.
"Madame la Duchesse has only had her diamonds reset this winter," said the jeweller, slightly embarrassed; "and now, as I came to M. le Marquis, I left them with her grace."
M. de Saint-Remy knew that Madame de Lucenay, to aid him, had changed her jewels for false stones. He was disagreeably embarrassed at this rencontre, but said, boldly:
"How curious these husbands are!—don't answer any inquisitive interrogatories, M. Baudoin."
"Curious; ma foi! no," said the duke; "it is my wife who pays. She can afford all her whims, for she is much richer than I am."