“Dear Léon, the thing is so ludicrous, so impossible! Tell the man that he may do his worst; or, rather, threaten him with an action for defamation of character. I am sure that would be by far your best plan, and the only means by which you can protect yourself in future. Of course he will not venture even now to take further steps; but the point is that he will always be threatening and pretending to have proof, and by-and-by the thing may really get abroad. If you take no steps to punish him, people will begin to imagine you were afraid, and that there was something in it. I am quite certain that my father, who has excellent common-sense, would advise you to put a summary end to Monsieur Lemaire’s attempts.”
They were driving together up the Champs-Elysées. Léon waited for a few moments before answering.
“That is all very well, but you do not understand.”
It was the argument he used most frequently, and it was not one which offered points for discussion. Nathalie accepted it, as usual, as to detail.
“I dare say I don’t. But I understand the absurdity, and so will every one who hears. The man must really be quite foolish! While he was about it, why did he not design something more probable. A common theft!” She laughed gayly.
He bathed deliciously in her disbelief. It reanimated him.
“I do not really think any one will be found to credit it.”
She exclaimed at the bare notion. Impossible!
He gazed at her admiringly; the noble lines of her face made other women appear insignificant.
“I believe your own taste is right, if a little severe,” he said, at last. “Frills and furbelows would not suit your style.”