His Grace of Avon becomes Further Acquainted with His Page
"Perhaps naught," he answered. Gaston frowned upon him and would have continued the discussion had not Gregory forestalled him.
"Tell me, Léon, do you accompany the Duke tonight?"
"I always go with him."
"Poor, poor child!" Madame Dubois sighed gustily. "Indeed, it is not fitting."
"Why is it not fitting? I like to go."
"I doubt it not, mon enfant. But to take a child to Vassaud's, and to Torquillier's—voyons, it is not convenable!"
Léon's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Last night I went with Monseigneur to the Maison Chourval," he said demurely.
"What!" Madame sank back in her chair. "It passes all bounds!"
"Have you been there, madame?"
"I? Nom de Dieu, what next will you ask? Is it likely that I should go to such a place?"
"No, madame. It is for the nobles, is it not?"
Madame snorted. "And for every pretty slut who walks the streets!" she retorted.
Léon tilted his head to one side. "Me, I did not think them pretty. Painted, and vulgar, with loud voices, and common tricks. But I did not see much." His brow wrinkled. "I do not know—I think perhaps I had offended Monseigneur, for of a sudden he swept round, and said, 'Await me below!' He said it as though he were angered."
"Tell us, Léon, what is it like, the Maison Chourval?" asked Gaston, unable to conceal his curiosity.
"Oh, it is a big hotel, all gold and dirty white, and smelling of some scent that suffocates one. There is a card-room, and other rooms; I forget. There was much wine, and some were drunk. Others, like Monseigneur, were just bored. The women—ah, they are just nothing!"
Gaston was rather disappointed; he opened his mouth to question Léon further, but Madame's eye was upon him, and he shut it again. A bell was heard in the distance, and at the
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