.. I will abstain from politics," said Andre-Louis, that being
the utmost he could say with truth.
"That is something, at least." His godfather permitted himself to
be mollified, now that a concession - or a seeming concession - had
been made to his just resentment.
"A chair, monsieur."
"No, no. I have come to carry you off to pay a visit with me. You
owe it entirely to Mme. de Plougastel that I consent to receive you
again. I desire that you come with me to thank her."
"I have my engagements here... " began Andre-Louis, and then broke
off. "No matter! I will arrange it. A moment." And he was
turning away to reenter the academy.
"What are your engagements? You are not by chance a
fencing-instructor?" M. de Kercadiou had observed the leather
waistcoat and the foil tucked under Andre-Louis' arm.
"I am the master of this academy - the academy of the late Bertrand
des Amis, the most flourishing school of arms in Paris to-day."
M. de Kercadiou's brows went up.
"And you are master of it?"
"Maitre en fait d'Armes.
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