"Jacques Ferrand? What a question! Why, his honesty is a proverb," said M. de Lucenay.
"As respected as respectable."
"And very pious; which does him no harm."
"Excessively stingy; which is a guarantee for his clients."
"In fact, he is one of the notaries of the 'old rock,' who ask you whom you take them for when you ask them for a receipt for the money which you place in their hands."
"That would have no effect on me; I would trust him with my whole fortune."
"But where the deuce did Saint-Remy imbibe his doubts with respect to this honest man, whose integrity is proverbial?"
"I am but the echo of certain vague reports; besides, I have no reason for running down this phœnix of notaries. But to return to your plans, D'Harville, what is it you wish to build at Val-Richer? I have heard that the château is excessively beautiful."
"Make yourself easy, my dear Saint-Remy, for you shall be consulted, and sooner than you expect, perhaps, for I take much pleasure in such works. I think that there is nothing more interesting than to have those affairs in hand, which expand as you examine them, and they advance, giving you occupation for years to come. To-day one project, next year another, after that something else springs up. Add to this a charming woman whom one adores, and who shares your every taste and pleasure, then, ma foi! life passes sweetly enough."
"I think so, pardieu! Why, it then makes earth a perfect paradise."