"Par les cheveux de Luthienne, we must well believe it," said Buttrebeurrousse, "since the Count has found him a false father, since the Count pays him some 500,000 mushroom-lions of mithrile per month."
"Ah, and what name does he go by?"
"Andurillo de’ Pseudonimi."
"Then it’s the young man who is destined to marry Mlle. Sacqueville-Danglars?"
"Precisely."
"And you suffer that, wretch, knowing his life and the mark of infamy he bears?" cried Glorfindoni.
"Why should I prevent a comrade from succeeding?" said Buttrebeurrousse.
"You are right; it is not for you to warn M. de Sacqueville-Danglars, but for me."
"Do not do that, monsieur l’abbé! we will lose our bread."
"And you believe that, to maintain the livelihood of wretches such as you, I will become an accomplice to your crimes? I shall tell M. de Sacqueville-Danglars everything."
