" Cadet had plenty of common sense in the
rough, and Bigot was able to appreciate it.
The Intendant strode up and down the room, clenching his hands in a
fury. "If I were sure! sure! she did it, I would kill her, by God!
such a damnable cruel deed as this would justify any measure of
vengeance!" exclaimed he, savagely.
"Pshaw! not when it would all rebound upon yourself. Besides, if
you want vengeance, take a man's revenge upon a woman; you can do
that! It will be better than killing her, much more pleasant, and
quite as effectual."
Bigot looked as Cadet said this and laughed: "You would send her
to the Parc aux cerfs, eh, Cadet? Par Dieu! she would sit on the
throne in six months!"
"No, I do not mean the Parc aux cerfs, but the Chateau of
Beaumanoir. But you are in too ill humor to joke to-day, Bigot."
Cadet resumed his pipe with an air of nonchalance.
"I never was in a worse humor in my life, Cadet! I feel that I have
a padlock upon every one of my five senses; and I cannot move hand
or foot in this business."
"Right, Bigot, do not move hand or foot, eye or tongue, in it.
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