“It is useful. And you——?”
“I have never boxed in my life,” said Brent.
He saw the faintest of faint frowns on her forehead. Bibi could box, and his boxing included tricks with his feet.
And then she began to tell him about Bibi, how he had come to her and suggested a partnership, but she did not tell Paul that Louis Blanc had tried to get her into his arms.
“You see we quarrelled, and I packed him out of the house, and now we are in his way. His idea is to attract the tourists to Beaucourt, charge them ten francs a bottle for wretched wine, sell them souvenirs, and all that. It will take months to get that hotel of his rebuilt, and this place of mine would have suited him very well while he was rebuilding the hotel. You will have to be very careful of Bibi.”
Brent’s hand had felt instinctively for his pipe. Manon saw it, and leaning over, took a tin of tobacco out of her bundle.
“Voilà! And English too!”
His eyes lit up, not merely at the sight of the tobacco, but because she had remembered.
“That’s good of you, Manon. What did you pay for it?”
“That is my affair.”