"Sounds like a good trade!" commented Laroque, heartily, his lips twitching, as he glanced from one to the other.
"And a most moral one!" came unctuously from the unsounded depths of M. Merivel's chest, "For we do good with the Strong Hand, you see. Ah-utile dulci—the Latin—ahem!"
"I don't altogether get you," said the young man, crossing one knee over the other with the air of a man who has made up his mind not to understand hints. M. Perissard shifted his chair a little, cleared his throat and leaned forward with his hands on his thighs.
"You shall!" he declared, a little more of the "stagey" quality was missing in his voice. "There are very few houses without a skeleton in the closet."
"Skeletons are cheap to-day!" struck in M. Merivel's bass.
"And in the best families there are often secrets which are worth a fortune," continued M. Perissard, impressively.
Laroque's eye-brows went up.
"O, I see," he said a trifle coolly, "Blackmail!"
Four large fat hands went up simultaneously in a gesture of horror and two shocked voices burst forth as one.
"Sh—h—h! My dear young friend! What an ugly word!"