"Yes, monsieur, I am speaking seriously. Since you are tired of your liberty; since I hear you say, for the tenth time, that you mean to settle down----" "Why, Adamas, you speak of me as if I were an old rake! It seems to me that, since our Henri's sad death, I have lived as becomes a man overwhelmed by grief, and a resident nobleman in duty bound to set a good example." "Certainly, certainly, monsieur, you can say all that you please to me on that subject It is my duty not to contradict you. You are not obliged to tell me of your delightful adventures in the châteaux or groves of the neighborhood, eh, monsieur? That is nobody's business but yours. A faithful servant ought not to spy upon his master, and I do not think that I have ever asked monsieur any indiscreet questions." "I do justice to your delicacy, my dear Adamas," replied Bois-Doré, at once embarrassed, disturbed and flattered by the chimerical suppositions of his idolatrous valet. "Let us talk of something else," he added, afraid to dwell upon so delicate a subject, and trying to believe that Adamas knew of adventures of his of which he had no knowledge himself. The marquis did not boast openly. He was too well bred to tell of the love-affairs he had had and to invent others that he had never had. But he was delighted that he should still be accredited with them, and provided that no particular woman was compromised, he did not contradict those who said that he was favored of all women. His friends connived at his modest conceit, and it was the great delight of the younger men, of Guillaume d'Ars in particular, to tease him on that point, knowing how agreeable such teasing was to him. But Adamas was not so ceremonious. He was not very much of a Gascon on his own account; having blended his personality with the radiations from his master's, he was a Gascon for him and in his place. So he continued the discussion with much self-possession, declaring that monsieur was quite right to think of marrying. It was a subject which was often renewed between them, and of which neither of them wearied, although it had never had any other result in thirty years than this reflection from Bois-Doré: "To be sure! to be sure! but I am so peaceful and so happy thus! There is no hurry, we will talk about it again." This time, however, he seemed to listen to Adamas's boasting on his account with more attention than usual. "If I thought that there was no danger of my marrying a barren woman," he said to his confidant, "I would marry, on my word! Perhaps I should do well to marry a widow with children?" "Fie! monsieur," cried Adamas, "do not think of such a thing. Take some young and lovely demoiselle, who will give you children after your own image."