"Because they are indispensable," M. Perissard assured him, and he was backed up by a ponderous nod from his colleague. "In family matters of this kind one cannot take too many precautions. In matters of honor, I have always said——"
Floriot half-rose. His face had paled slightly and his manner was nervous.
"My time is limited!" he broke in, abruptly.
"I beg your pardon, monsieur! I beg your pardon!"
And four fat hands motioned him back to his seat.
"I will be brief!" M. Perissard assured him. "Your marriage was not altogether as happy as it might have been, and one day you had a violent scene. You turned out of your house the lady who had the honor of bearing your name!"
"How do you know this? Who told you?" demanded Floriot. His voice was low and menacing.
"Ah, it is true, then!" exclaimed M. Perissard. The other gave no sign and Perissard took the silence as an assent.
"Very good! After this incident," he continued, hastily. "Madame Floriot traveled. She traveled very far and was more or less—happy. More or less!"
Floriot sprang up, white-faced and trembling.