"Completely," answered the mistress. "He takes too much liberty, that
young gentleman. He was wrong to forget that I hold the purse-strings.
I don't mind paying, but I want a little deference shown me for my money.
Good-by! Cayrol, remember my instructions."
And, shaking hands with the banker, Madame Desvarennes entered her own office, leaving the two men together.
There was a moment's pause: Cayrol was the first to break the silence.
"What do you think of the Prince's position?"
"His financial position?" asked Marechal.
"Oh, no! I know all about that! I mean his relation to Madame
Desvarennes."
"Zounds! If we were in Venice in the days of the Aqua-Toffana, the sbirri and the bravi—"
"What rubbish!" interrupted Cayrol, shrugging his shoulders.
"Let me continue," said the secretary, "and you can shrug your shoulders
afterward if you like. If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame
Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had
Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning."
"You are not in earnest," muttered the banker.