“A coincidence.”
“More than improbable,” said M. Bourget, shaking his head obstinately. “Depend upon it, this has to do with that loan of Monsieur de Cadanet’s. It was a loan?”
“Of course.”
“And repaid by my money,” was on M. Bourget’s lips. Something, however, withheld him, although he would have said it in all simplicity, and without thought of anything offensive. “Repaid on his marriage,” he substituted. “I knew there was something of the sort. Depend upon it this rascal has got hold of the transaction, and is bent upon making capital out of it. I wish I had Monsieur Léon here, to put one or two question.”
“I believe, monsieur, I am perfectly acquainted with his affairs.”
M. Bourget darted an ironical look at her, but refrained from expression of incredulity.
“Do you, at any rate, know, madame, whether Baron Léon was in Paris or at Poissy when he received this assistance from the defunct Monsieur de Cadanet?”
“In Paris.”
“And had he, at that time, any communication with Monsieur Lemaire!”
“I am aware of none.”