“Neither did I,” said his wife.
M. Formery paused. Then he said, “How long have you been in the service of M. Gournay-Martin?”
“A little more than a year,” said the concierge.
M. Formery looked at the paper in his hand, frowned, and said severely, “I see you’ve been convicted twice, my man.”
“Yes, sir, but—”
“My husband’s an honest man, sir—perfectly honest,” broke in his wife. “You’ve only to ask M. Gournay-Martin; he’ll—”
“Be so good as to keep quiet, my good woman,” said M. Formery; and, turning to her husband, he went on: “At your first conviction you were sentenced to a day’s imprisonment with costs; at your second conviction you got three days’ imprisonment.”
“I’m not going to deny it, sir,” said the concierge; “but it was an honourable imprisonment.”
“Honourable?” said M. Formery.
“The first time, I was a gentleman’s servant, and I got a day’s imprisonment for crying, ‘Hurrah for the General Strike!’—on the first of May.”