Poiret. “Well, I never! Monsieur Rabourdin!”
Phellion. “But did you notice how calm and dignified he was?”
Poiret [with a sly look that was more like a grimace]. “I shouldn’t be surprised if there were something under it all.”
Phellion. “A man of honor; pure and spotless.”
Poiret. “Who is?”
Phellion. “Monsieur Poiret, you think as I think about Dutocq; surely you understand me?”
Poiret [nodding his head three times and answering with a shrewd look]. “Yes.” [The other clerks return.]
Fleury. “A great shock; I still don’t believe the thing. Monsieur Rabourdin, a king among men! If such men are spies, it is enough to disgust one with virtue. I have always put Rabourdin among Plutarch’s heroes.”
Vimeux. “It is all true.”
Poiret [reflecting that he had only five days more to stay in the office]. “But, gentlemen, what do you say about the man who stole that paper, who spied upon Rabourdin?” [Dutocq left the room.]