_The steward retreats hastily and finds himself confronted in the doorway by Bertrand de Poulengey, a lymphatic French gentleman-at-arms, aged 36 or thereabout, employed in the department of the provost-marshal, dreamily absent-minded, seldom speaking unless spoken to, and then slow and obstinate in reply: altogether in contrast to the self-assertive, loud-mouthed, superficially energetic, fundamentally will-less Robert. The steward makes way for him, and vanishes._ _Poulengey salutes, and stands awaiting orders._ ROBERT [_genially_]. It isnt service, Polly. A friendly talk. Sit down. [_He hooks the stool from under the table with his instep_]. _Poulengey, relaxing, comes into the room; places the stool between the table and the window; and sits down ruminatively. Robert, half sitting on the end of the table, begins the friendly talk._ ROBERT. Now listen to me, Polly. I must talk to you like a father. _Poulengey looks up at him gravely for a moment, but says nothing._ ROBERT. It’s about this girl you are interested in. Now, I have seen her. I have talked to her. First, she’s mad. That doesnt matter. Second, she’s not a farm wench. She’s a bourgeoise. That matters a good deal. I know her class exactly. Her father came here last year to represent his village in a lawsuit: he is one of their notables. A farmer. Not a gentleman farmer: he makes money by it, and lives by it. Still, not a laborer. Not a mechanic. He might have a cousin a lawyer, or in the Church. These sort of people may be of no account socially; but they can give a lot of bother to the authorities. That is to say, to me. Now no doubt it seems to you a very simple thing to take this girl away, humbugging her into the belief that you are taking her to the Dauphin. But if you get her into trouble, you may get me into no end of a mess, as I am her father’s lord, and responsible for her protection. So friends or no friends, Polly, hands off her. POULENGEY [_with deliberate impressiveness_] I should as soon think of the Blessed Virgin herself in that way, as of this girl. ROBERT [_coming off the table_] But she says you and Jack and Dick have offered to go with her. What for? You are not going to tell me that you take her crazy notion of going to the Dauphin seriously, are you? POULENGEY [_slowly_] There is something about her. They are pretty foulmouthed and foulminded down there in the guardroom, some of them. But there hasnt been a word that has anything to do with her being a woman. They have stopped swearing before her. There is something. Something. It may be worth trying. ROBERT. Oh, come, Polly! pull yourself together. Commonsense was never your strong point; but this is a little too much. [_He retreats disgustedly_].