“No.”
“Nor my mother?”
“No.”
“You—think they are right?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?” asked Luc patiently.
“Because,” was the fierce answer, “I cannot endure a de Clapiers to die in a hospital, and be buried at the expense of public charity.”
The elder brother lifted his ruined face and smiled.
“What do you want of me?” he asked.
“You must come to my hotel——”