"They loved him!"
"As they will love you, Monsieur."
He had succeeded in drawing her thoughts from Bertrand, and the tears were drying on her cheeks.
But he lacked tact.
"And this fellow?"
Her eyes grew troubled again, whilst she shuddered a little.
"He was our gardener. Madame Maman dismissed him because he stole, and sang the Marseillaise. He has a brother in Paris who has a bad influence over him."
She spoke with the air of a matron.
"It would have been better to kill him."
"Oh no, no. I ... I do not think he will come near again. Our people would have no sympathy with him."