“You are right––fools––fools,” answered de Praille, as he motioned to the servants for more wine.
I WON’T GO ANNOUNCED LOUISE FIRMLY. YOU’LL MEET
SOMEBODY, GET MARRIED AND I’LL BE LEFT ALL ALONE.
“By the way,” asked the lady who had first spoken, “you have heard the news?”
As no one had heard anything particularly new for the last two hours, she continued by saying:
“They say that the new minister of police is as hard as a stone, and cold as a fish. He is going to put a stop to all our amusements, and, Marquis, this may be the last entertainment you will give at Bel-Air.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed the host. “I’d like to see the minister of police who would dare to interfere with the pleasures of a French nobleman. Who and what is he?”
“He is from Touraine; is called the Count de Linieres, and is the uncle of the Chevalier Maurice de Vaudrey.”