Adaptable, he had at once fallen in with her direct speech; the more so because it was his natural way; any other ways were “games,” as he himself said.
She flashed a glance at her sister, and smiled half-ironically.
“I could tell you plenty,” she said softly. “He was a startling fellow, and went far sometimes; but you look as if you could go farther.”
Gaston helped himself to an entree, wondering whether a knife was used with sweetbreads.
“How far could he go?” he asked.
“In the hunting-field with anybody, with women endlessly, with meanness like a snail, and when his blood was up, to the most nonsensical place you can think of.”
Forks only for sweetbreads! Gaston picked one up. “He went there.”
“Who told you?”
“I came from there.”
“Where is it?”