He spoke now as though to an equal--to an enemy perhaps, but to an equal.
I was in some perplexity; but a moment later he relieved me.
"You need trouble yourself with no denials," he said.

"Lafleur's story of the gentleman at Avranches, with the description of him, struck me as strange; and for the rest--there were two things." He seated himself on a stool.

I leaned against the wall.
"In the first place," he continued, "I know my wife pretty well; in the second, a secret known to four maidservants-- Really, sir, you were very confiding!" "I was doing no wrong," said I; though not, I confess, in a very convinced tone.
"Then why the masquerade ?" he answered quickly, hitting my weak point.
"Because you were known to be unreasonable." His smile broadened a little.
"It's the old crime of husbands, isn't it ?" he asked.

"Well, sir, I'm no lawyer, and it's not my purpose to question you on that matter.

I will put you to no denials." I bowed.