dazzling personality."

"You - you are acquainted with him?" I asked.

"Acquainted?" echoed that boastful liar. "We were as brothers."

"How you interest me! And why have you never told us?" quoth madame,
her eyes turned enviously upon the young man - as enviously as were
Lavedan's turned in disgust. "It is a thousand pities that Monsieur
de Bardelys has altered his plans and is no longer coming to us.
To meet such a man is to breathe again the air of the grand monde.
You remember, Monsieur de Lesperon, that affair with the Duchess de
Bourgogne?" And she smiled wickedly in my direction.

"I have some recollection of it," I answered coldly. "But I think
that rumour exaggerates. When tongues wag, a little rivulet is
often described as a mountain torrent."

"You would not say so did you but know what I know," she informed
me roguishly. "Often, I confess, rumour may swell the importance
of such an affaire, but in this case I do not think that rumour
does it justice."

I made a deprecatory gesture, and I would have had the subject
changed, but ere I could make an effort to that end, the fool
Saint-Eustache was babbling again.

"You remember the duel that was fought in consequence, Monsieur de
Lesperon?"