"Certainly," said Réginard. "If you were deprived of your title of baron, you would still retain that of millionaire."
"Unfortunately, one is not millionaire for life as one is baron," observed Monte Fato. "Witness the millionaires Thrainowitz and Thraingold, who have just filed for bankruptcy."
After some more financial small talk, the Count found himself momentarily alone. The heat was excessive, and yet he refused to accept any refreshment offered him, remarking that such food was not for him; for it was wrapped in intolerably malodorous leaves from the elf-country. The Countess de Pérégrin did not take her eyes off the Count for a moment.
"Réginard," she said, "have you noticed that the Count has never accepted dinner at M. de Pérégrin?"
"But he accepted to eat dinner with me, for it is by that dinner that he made his entrée into the world."
"Yes, but dining with you is not the same as dining with M. de Pérégrin. And he has not eaten anything this evening."
"The Count is very sombre."
