There was no mistaking his attitude, no mistaking his words.
"Eh ?" gasped the other, recovering himself at last to envisage what appeared to develop into a serious situation.
"Monsieur," said Garnache, his voice very cold, "do I understand that you no longer intend to carry out your engagement and wed Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye ?" A dull flush spread upon the Marquis's face.

He rose too, and across the table he confronted his guest, his mien haughty, his eyes imperious.
"I thought, monsieur," said he, with a great dignity, "I thought when I invited you to sit at my table that your business was to serve me, however little I might be conscious of having merited the honour.

It seems instead that you are come hither to affront me.

You are my guest, monsieur.

Let me beg that you will depart before I resent a question on a matter which concerns myself alone." The man was right, and Garnache was wrong.