"
M. de Saintonge, receiving an answer so little to his mind, was
almost bursting with rage. "Proceed with caution!" he cried.
"You talk as if the thing could be entertained, or as if I had
cause to fear the coxcomb! On the contrary, I intend to teach
him a lesson a little confinement will cool his temper. You
must give me a letter, my friend, and we will clap him in the
Bastille for a month or two."
"Impossible," I said firmly. "Quite impossible, M. le Marquis."
M. de Saintonge looked at me, frowning. "How?" he said
arrogantly. "Have my services earned no better answer than
that?"
"You forget," I replied. "Let me remind you that less than a
month ago you asked me not to interfere with St. Mesmin; and at
your instance I refused to accede to M. de Clan's request that I
would confine him. You were then all for non-interference, M. de
Saintonge, and I cannot blow hot and cold. Besides, to be plain
with you," I continued, "even if that were not the case, this
young fellow is in a manner under my protection; which renders it
impossible for me to move against him.
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