Maurice spoke lightly, but through his mind ran the thought, "What an enemy this man has been to me, without knowing it!"
"They are easy to get on with," said Artois. "When I was in Sicily I learned to love them."
"Oh, love!" said Maurice, hastily.
He checked himself.
"That's rather a strong word, but I like them. They're a delightful race."
"Have you found out their faults?"
Both men were trying to hide themselves in their words.
"What are their faults, do you think?" Maurice said.
He looked over the wall and saw, far off on the path by the ravine, a black speck moving.
"Treachery when they do not trust; sensuality, violence, if they think themselves wronged."