"Very well, Guinardon, I myself will undertake to pay you any indemnity that a board of arbitrators may fix upon. Do you hear?" "Now don't go and do the handsome for people who won't give you so much as a thank-you. This man, d'Esparvieu, has taken your knowledge, your energies, your whole life for a salary that even a valet wouldn't accept. So leave that idea alone. In any case it is too late. The book is sold." "Sold? To whom?" asked Sariette in agonized tones. "What does that matter? You'll never see it again. You'll hear no more about it; it's off to America." "To America! The _Lucretius_ with the arms of Philippe de Vendôme and marginalia in Voltaire's own hand! My _Lucretius_ off to America!" Père Guinardon began to laugh. "My dear Sariette, you remind me of the Chevalier des Grieux when he learns that his darling mistress is to be transported to the Mississippi. 'My dear mistress going to the Mississippi!' says he." "No! no!" answered Sariette, very pale, "this book shall not go to America. It shall return, as it ought, to the d'Esparvieu library. Let me have it, Guinardon." The antiquary made a second attempt to put an end to an interview that now looked as if it might take an ugly turn. "My good Sariette, you haven't told me what you think of my Greco. You never so much as glanced at it. It is an admirable piece of work all the same." And Guinardon, putting the picture in a good light, went on: "Now just look at Saint Francis here, the poor man of the Lord, the brother of Jesus. See how his fuliginous body rises heavenward like the smoke from an agreeable sacrifice, like the sacrifice of Abel." "Give me the book, Guinardon," said Sariette, without turning his head; "give me the book." The blood suddenly flew to Père Guinardon's head. "That's enough of it," he shouted, as red as a turkey-cock, the veins standing out on his forehead. And he dropped the _Lucretius_ into his jacket pocket. Straightway old Sariette flew at the antiquary, assailed him with sudden fury, and, frail and weakly as he was, butted him back into young Octavie's arm-chair.