“If I am not mistaken, yonder is our divinity of the lane,” said the patroon softly. “Permit me.” And he strove to pass.
The soldier did not move.
“You are blocking my way, Monsieur,” continued the other, sharply.
“Not if it lies the other way.”
“This way, or that way, how does it concern you?” retorted the land baron.
“If you seek further to annoy a lady whom you have already sufficiently wronged, it is any man’s concern.”
“Especially if he has followed her across the country,” sneered Mauville. “Besides, since when have actresses become so chary of their favors?” In his anger the land baron threw out intimations he would have challenged from other lips. “Has the stage then become a holy convent?”
“You stamped yourself a scoundrel some time ago,” said the soldier slowly, as though weighing each word, “and now show yourself a coward when you malign a young girl, without father, brother––”
“Or lover!” interrupted the land baron. “Perhaps, however, you were only traveling to see the country! A grand tour, enlivened with studies of human nature, as well as glimpses of scenery!”