"Ah, Count!" cried Morrie, taking Monte Fato by the hand, and releasing the hand immediately because of the heat of that hand, which was black and yet burned like fire. "His father loves him so!"
"Do not tempt me! I would make him suffer," said Monte Fato, showing anger for the first time.
"Count, count!" cried Morrie, stupefied.
"My dear Meurtrier," interrupted the Count. "Listen to the adorable fashion wherein Vieux-Nôques sings that phrase, Que de charmes ont pour moi les silmarils! He performs it so plaintively that the character of Féanoir becomes almost sympathetic."
When the curtain fell, there was another knocq at the door. Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines entered.
"Bonsoir, monsieur Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines," said Monte Fato, as if he were seeing Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines for the first time. "Be seated then."
"Monsieur, Réginard was wrong to lose his temper," said Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines. "I come on my own account to make my excuses, and now that my excuses are made, mine, you understand, monsieur le comte, I am come to tell you that I believe too much a gentleman to refuse certain explanations on the affair of Quirithe-Oungallant."
