"How much did you pay for them?" inquired De Brie.
"But I don't really know," said the Count. "One or two of my coats of mithril, I believe; but I leave such matters to my intendant."
While De Brie communicated this information to Mme. de Sacqueville-Danglars, her husband looked so out of countenance that Monte Fato seemed to take pity on him.
"You see what ingrates women are," he said. "They are worse than the douaniers of the Mountains of Cologne, who never do what one bribes them to do. They always love most what is most harmful, and there's really no alternative but to give them their head, and let them learn their lesson by breaking it."
With this, he made his excuses, as did De Brie, and left Baron de Sacqueville-Danglars to the wrath of his wife, colder and rather more tempestuous than the storms of Charadras.
