"Yes, you are right, it's absurd. But I can't help it, I can't forget.... And I don't want to, either. My duty is to think of everything and to give her a guide, a master who will advise her.... I know Suzanne: she will make a perfect wife...."
"And she will have lots of children; and they will be very happy," Morestal wound up. "Come, you're boring me and boring yourself with your fancies.... Let's talk of something else. By the way ..."
He waited for Jorancé to come up with him. The two walked on abreast. And Morestal, who was interested in no subject outside his personal prejudice, resumed:
"By the way, can you tell me—if it's not a professional secret, of course—can you tell me who that man Dourlowski is exactly?"
"Six months ago," replied Jorancé, "I should not have been able to answer your question. But now ..."
"But now?..."
"He is no longer in our service."
"Do you think he has gone over to the other side?"
"I expect so, but I haven't the least proof of it. In any case, there's not much to be said in the fellow's favour. Why do you ask? Have you anything to do with him?"
"No, no," said Morestal, remaining thoughtful.