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His mood became conciliatory. "Come, come,
my friend, no rancour now. What the devil! You wouldn't stand in
the girl's way? You can't really blame her for making this choice?
Have you thought what it means to her? Have you thought that under
the protection of such a gentleman there are no heights which she
may not reach? Don't you see the wonderful luck of it? Surely, if
you're fond of her, particularly being of a jealous temperament,
you wouldn't wish it otherwise?"
Andre-Louis looked at him in silence for a long moment. Then he
laughed again. "Oh, you are fantastic," he said. "You are not real."
He turned on his heel and strode to the door.
The action, and more the contempt of his look, laugh, and words stung
M. Binet to passion, drove out the conciliatoriness of his mood.
"Fantastic, are we?" he cried, turning to follow the departing
Scaramouche with his little eyes that now were inexpressibly evil.
"Fantastic that we should prefer the powerful protection of this
great nobleman to marriage with beggarly, nameless bastard.


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