"Yes, the company de Villeroy—a fine position."
"I wonder what the boy is like. Has he grown up tall like the de Lérys?"
"Yes, he does them credit, is very distinguished looking, with an air which does not allow everybody to be familiar. Some call Louis cold, but we noblesse ought to have a little of that."
"No, no, Lotbinière, none of it to white men. Not even to blacks and coolies, but certainly none of it to white men."
"You speak from India where all French naturally are high-caste."
A look of pain came over Répentigny's features.
"No, Michel, that is not the reason. Alas! I once despised a man of lower degree. My God, how could I do it again!" And his head dropped upon his breast in profound dejection.
Lotbinière started and paused, looking at him with great sympathy, a cruel old remembrance awaking.
"By the curse of heaven, I have never forgotten it," continued the other.
"Stay, stay," said Lotbinière, leaning over and softly laying a hand on his arm, "you were blameless; young blood was not to be controlled."