"There is nothing wrong, I hope ?" Had the scholar been such a man as Baudichon, Blondel's answer would have been one frenzied shriek of insults and reproaches.

But face to face with Basterga's massive quietude, with his giant bulk, with that air, at once masterful and cynical, which proclaimed to those with whom he talked that he gave them but half his mind while reading theirs, the wrath of the smaller man cooled.

A moment his lips writhed, without sound; then, "Wrong ?" he cried, his voice harsh and broken.

"Wrong?
All is wrong!" "You are not well ?" Basterga said, eyeing him with concern.
"Well?
I shall never be better! Never!" Blondel shrieked.

And after a pause, "Curse you!" he added.