Addressing her back, still holding his boxful of pupæ on his bony knees, he said with the sneer quite audible in his voice:
"Your famous savant, Fabre, first inspired me to study the sex habits of the Death's Head."[pg 274]
She made no reply, her cheek resting on her father's knees.
"It was because of his wonderful experiments with the Great Peacock moth and with others of the genus that I have studied to acquaint myself concerning the amours of the Death's Head. And I have discovered that he will find the female even if she be miles and miles away."
The man was grinning now in the dusk—grinning like a skull; but the girl's back was still turned and she merely found something in his voice not quite agreeable.
"I think," she said in a low, quiet voice, "that I have now heard sufficient about the Death's Head moth."
"Ah—have I offended mademoiselle? I ask a thousand pardons——"
Old Courtray awoke in the dusk.
"My quill, Maryette," he muttered, "—see if it floats yet?"
The girl bent over the water and strained her eyes. Her father tested the line with shaky hands. There was no fish on the hook.