“Indeed?” Gastineau, still in his mood of devilish coolness, raised his brows in a sneer. “I did not think it was as bad as that. What a change the point of view makes. Now my idea is that I am simply asking you, in return for the benefits you have received from me, not to make a fuss about returning some lost property of mine which you have accidentally found.”
“I must deny that,” Herriard returned, with set face.
“Deny what?” was the bland inquiry.
“That the property, that the Countess Alexia, ever was yours.”
Gastineau’s face assumed a look of tolerant protest. It was as though he were considering what argument he could use with a man whose reasoning was so dense and trivial. So for a few moments he smoked in silence. Then he asked, “She has told you so?”
“Practically.”
“Ah!” Gastineau affected to see his way clear once more. “The Countess has mentioned my name to you?”
“Yes.”
The other nodded receptively. “What, may I ask, has she told you?”
The question was pertinent enough; more critical than Gastineau let his manner indicate.