And as I insisted, she replied with comical embarrassment:
"But you cannot; the roads are horrible.... You must wait for the fine weather."
"No, madame," I said, smiling, "I will not wait a minute; if I am to be your bailiff I must look after your affairs."
"Madame," said old Alain, who had come in, "M. Odiot could have le père Hivart's old gig; it is not on springs, but it's all the more solid for that."
Mme. Laroque darted a withering glance at the miserable Alain for daring to suggest le père Hivart's gig to an agent who had been to the Grand Duchess Hélène's theatricals.
"Wouldn't the buggy be able to do it, Alain?" she asked.
"The buggy, madame? Oh, no! I don't believe it could get into the lane, and if it did, it would certainly not come out whole."
I declared that I could walk easily.
"No, no," declared Mme. Laroque; "that's impossible. I couldn't allow it. Let me see ... We have half a dozen horses here doing nothing; but perhaps you don't ride?"
"Oh, I ride, but—you really need not—I am going to——"