"Yes, monsieur."

"My God!" Monk addressed the company: "If I were pressed for time, I
would rather have one of Jules' half-hours than anybody else's hour and
a half."

"Let us hope, however," the Comtesse de Lorgnes interposed sweetly, "by
that time this so dreadful tempest will have moderated."

"One has that hope," her husband uttered in a sepulchral voice.

"But, if the storm continue," Madame de Sévénié said, "you must not
think of travelling farther--on such a night. The château is large,
there is ample accommodation for all..."

There was a negligible pause, during which Duchemin saw the long lashes
of the Comtesse de Lorgnes curtain momentarily her disastrous violet
eyes: it was a sign of assent. Immediately it was followed by the least
of negative movements of her head. She was looking directly at Phinuit,
who, so far as Duchemin could see, made no sign of any sort, who
neither spoke nor acted on the signals which, indubitably, he had
received. On the other hand, it was Monk who acknowledged the proffered
courtesy.

"Madame de Sévénié is too good, but we could not dream of imposing ...
No, but truly, madame, I am obliged to ask my guests to proceed with me
to Millau to-night regardless of the weather. Important despatches
concerning my business await me there; I must consider them and reply
by cable to-night without fail. It is really of the most pressing