“But you know him?” insisted Luc.
“Yes.”
“And yet you, by the aid of a Christian priest, seek to raise the Devil!” exclaimed the Marquis.
“I wanted to know something. The Devil should have entered into the heretic and answered my questions; but the fellow cheated. Faugh! Do not let us speak of it.”
Luc fixed his eyes on the handsome, pleasant face.
“What did you want to know?” he asked, with a smile.
“Something about a woman.” Monsieur Armand cut himself a slice of pie. “I had that rascal fetched from Venice on purpose. The whim cost me something.”
“I truly marvel at your folly,” said Luc calmly.
“Oh, there is a Devil,” returned the other, with a sideway glance, “and one might raise him, you know. But you have the fashionable tone of Paris.”
“I have never been there save for a day in passing,” answered Luc simply. “And I speak from conviction, not fashion.”