'Oh, I see. You think I'm frivolous,' Paul said plaintively. 'But you
ought to have seen me an hour or two ago.'
Andre's eyes asked, 'Why?'
'Oh, I was plunged in all the most appropriate emotions--shedding
floods of tears over my lost childhood and my misspent youth. Don't
you like to have a good cry now and then? Oh, I don't mean literal
tears, of course; only spiritual ones. For the letter killeth, but the
spirit giveth life. I walked over to Granjolaye.'
Andre looked surprise. 'To Granjolaye? Have you--were you--'
He hesitated, but Paul understood. 'Have you heard from her? Were you
invited?' 'Oh, dear, no,' he answered. 'No such luck. Not to the
Chateau, only to the gates--the East Gate.' (The principal entrance to
the home park of Granjolaye is the South Gate, which opens upon the
Route Departementale.) 'I stood respectfully outside, and looked
through the grating of the grille. I walked through the forest, by the
Sentier des Contrebandiers.'
'Ah,' said Andre.
'And on my way what do you suppose I met?'
'A--a viper,' responded Andre. 'The hot weather is bringing them out.
I killed two in my garden yesterday.'
'Oh, you cruel thing! What did you want to kill the poor young
creatures for? And then to boast of it!--But no, not a viper. A lady.'
'A lady?'
'Yes--a real lady; she wore gloves.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162