These words were hardly out of his mouth, when the husband, who had his wife on his arm, left her abruptly, looked about, and rushed up to Cherami, to whom he said in a voice that trembled with emotion:
"Was it you who just spoke, monsieur?"
"What's that! Suppose it was? Well, yes, I did speak. Do you mean to say that it isn't my right?"
"Was it you who said: 'It's the faithless Fanny'?"
"Yes, pardieu! it was. Oh! I never deny my words."
"This is neither the time nor the place for an explanation, monsieur; but I will call on you to-morrow, and, if you're not a coward, you will give me satisfaction."
"I, a coward! Arthur Cherami, a coward! Well, well! that's a good one! And I have just challenged the whole Blanquette wedding party! I am always ready to fight with whatever anyone chooses—from a pin to a cannon, I'm your man!"
"We will see about that to-morrow. Your address?"
"There it is. I always carry a card about me with a view to affairs of this sort."
Monléard took the soiled yellow card which Cherami drew from his pocket, and hastened after his wife, who was already in the carriage. This little scene had taken place so rapidly that the persons who were standing had been able to catch only a few words.