"Would that you would be quiet!" said Philip severely. "If either of you have lost those stockings ..." He paused, and once more his eyes travelled from one to the other. "I shall seek another valet."
François became tearful.
"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! It is this imbécile, this crapaud—"
"M'sieu, je vous implore—"
Philip pointed dramatically across the room. Both men looked fearfully in the direction of that accusing finger.
"Ah!" François darted forward. "La voilà! What did I say?" He clasped the box to his breast. "What did I say?"
"But it is not so!" cried Jacques. "What did you say? You said you had not seen the box! What did I say? I said—"
"Enough!" commanded Philip. "I will not endure this bickering! Be quiet, François! Little monkey that you are!"
"M'sieur!" François was hurt. His sharp little face fell into lines of misery.
"Little monkey," continued Philip inexorably, "with more thought for your chattering than for my welfare."