“But you are quite alone!”
“My servant—”
“That extraordinary creature you call Milo.”
“Do not speak ill of her; she likes you.”
“Thanks for the favour!”
“Oh! she is not fond of everybody. With you, however, she is like my dog, which licks your hand; he does not treat everybody the same way!”
“Yes, I may charm the servant and the dog, but the mistress disdains me.”
“Oh! the mistress. She is the one who orders, and the others obey.”
“Then I will obey.”
Giving him a charming smile, she summoned to her the little terrier, which was hid among the heather, and, walking slowly by Marcel’s side, returned in the direction of the villa. On approaching the gate they saw a man engaged in arranging on the road a pile of stones discharged from a tumbrel that very morning. A large sledge-hammer lay near his vest under a straw covering. Politely raising his cap to the two passers-by, and without appearing to bestow any further heed on them, he continued his task. Madame Vignola seemed vexed at this installation so near her home. She looked carefully at the man, and, as soon as the garden gate was closed, asked—