“If any of Goblet’s fellows stroll round here, Marie would only have to stand in the doorway.”
Durand lent her his car and drove Manon over to Ste. Claire. Marie was willing to come to Beaucourt, and she accepted Manon’s confession with her usual phlegmatic reasonableness.
“A good man is the same everywhere. You can trust me to keep your secret.”
“It will not be a secret long.”
“So much the better. For myself I always prefer to tell people before they find out. But that man of yours is clever; he took us all in.”
“Well, I helped him,” said Manon.
Marie Castener was to come to them on the Saturday. Etienne would drive her over in the gig, for Etienne wanted to see how things were going at Beaucourt. There were people who called it the “miraculous village,” and she smiled shrewdly at Anatole Durand.
“Monsieur is a wizard.”
Durand, looking happy, shrugged off the compliment.
“Everybody has worked hard. We are so proud of Beaucourt that we have asked a very great man to come and see it. But I am giving away secrets. I am very glad that you are coming to look after Manon, madame.”