“No.”
“And what is Bibi doing?”
“Living at the Coq d’Or. They say there is something between him and that girl Barbe. She’ll keep him in order, if any woman can do it. I suppose he has some money.”
When the Casteners had gone Manon told Paul the news about Louis Blanc. They were leaning over the stable door, and the calf was sucking Manon’s fingers, a protest against its weaning.
“Poor devil!” said Brent, “I would rather be dead. I never thought——”
“I can’t pity him,” she answered; “I suppose I ought to, but I can’t. I wonder if he will come back to Beaucourt?”
“What could a blind man do here?”
“Make mischief. I hope he will stay where he is; there would be something horrible about a blind man crawling about the village. Be careful, ma petite, do you want to eat my hand?”
Brent leant over and rubbed the calf’s head, and the little beast’s sapphire blue eyes looked up at them without fear.
“This thing is tame enough.”