"It is the smallest matter," he said, waving his hand gracefully.
"And yet," I retorted, "you seem to find a difficulty in coming at it."
"As you do at the grain of sand in the eye," he answered wittily. "After all, however, in what you say, M. de Rosny, there is some truth. I feel that I am, on delicate ground; but I am sure that you will pardon me. You have in your suite a certain Diego."
"It may be so," I said, masking my surprise, and affecting indifference.
"A tennis-player."
I shrugged my shoulders. "The man is known," I said.
"A Protestant?"
"It is not impossible."
"And a subject of the King, my master. A man," Don Antonio continued, with increasing stiffness, "in fine, M. de Rosny, who, after committing various offences, murdered his comrade in prison, and, escaping in his clothes, took refuge in this country."
I shrugged my shoulders again.