“Your Saulvard, of course!... Yes, I have some fine lines on him.... That gentlemen may well boast of them!”
One after the other, all the munitions piled up by Schleifmann followed in rapid succession.
“You surprise me very much!” M. Raindal muttered. “I admit that I do not know Saulvard very much.... I never had any but professional relations with him.... Yet, I never heard it said.... Your friend Schleifmann must be exaggerating....”
His brother Cyprien smiled shyly at this evasion but did not reply at once. He emptied his pipe in an ash tray. After a while, he broke the silence.
“Tell me ... where does this Saulvard live?”
The query made M. Raindal restless in his chair. He foresaw how grave was the reply he would have to give and tried to equivocate:
“Why, really, I do know.... It is the first time we are going there.... Thérèse has the invitation; she will be able to tell you....”
“You do know!” Cyprien replied, aggressively sarcastic. “Go on! I am willing to grant you may not know the number of the house; but surely you know the name of the street; you must at least know in what district it is!”
M. Raindal hid his uneasiness and pretended deeply to search into his memory.
“It seems to me,” he replied at length, “that he lives in the avenue Kléber.... Yes, tha it, avenue Kléber.”