"You think so?" said Monte Fato.
"I am certain. After you left us, we talked about you for an hour afterwards. It is true that my father will be furious."
The Count laughed. "I fear it is not only the Count de Pérégrin who will be enraged; M. and Mme. de Sacqueville-Danglars will see me of very bad fashion, and I will be as welcome among them as a frost in spring or a spammeur. For they know you are my oldest acquaintance in Arnor, and they will ask why I have not invited you. Think at least to furnish yourself with a prior engagement, such as that you were romping in Magot's mushroom field again, or that you had affairs to settle with a mysterious chevalier dressed entirely in black and possessing the odd habit of constantly sniffing."
"I will do better than that, monsieur le comte," said Réginard. "My mother wishes to breathe the air of the sea; ever since your arrival, the sea-longing has afflicted her more strongly than ever. Deep in the hearts of her side of the family lies the nostalgie de la mer, which it is perilous to stir. No peace, she often says, will I have in salon or boudoir again. My father, on the other hand, cannot endure the sea, and even sea-food is abhorrent to him... On what day is fixed your dinner?"
