“I am no use to them,” he said.
“No use?”
“Look at me. Did you ever see such an ugly wretch? I should frighten you all at the high table—I suppose. And they tell me I have no manners. No. They would rather see me hidden among the servants.”
Tiphaïne looked shocked. It was plain even to her childish wisdom that she had lighted on some passionate distress, the depth and fierceness of which were strange to one who had never lacked for love.
“Are you older than Olivier?” she asked.
Bertrand nodded.
“Then why does he take your place?”
“Because he has straight legs and a pretty face; because they love him; because I am such a clumsy beast,” and he shut his mouth with a rebellious growl.
Tiphaïne drew herself nearer to him amid the rushes. She was still fondling Dame Jake’s ears.
“I do not think that you are clumsy, Bertrand,” she said.