“He has, unfortunately, too much wit.”

“Well, then, why do you wish me to give up seeing such a man?”

“Because he is an enemy.”

“Of whom?”

“Of the cardinal.”

“What?” answered Scarron, “I continue to receive Monsieur Gilles Despreaux, who thinks ill of me, and you wish me to give up seeing the coadjutor, because he thinks ill of another man.

Impossible!”

The conversation had rested there and Scarron, through sheer obstinacy, had seen Monsieur de Gondy only the more frequently.

Now, the very morning