“Well,” said he to Morcerf, “but I think your father will not be the only angry one; M. and Madame Danglars will think me a very ill-mannered person. They know that I am intimate with you⁠—that you are, in fact, one of the oldest of my Parisian acquaintances⁠—and they will not find you at my house; they will certainly ask me why I did not invite you. Be sure to provide yourself with some previous engagement which shall have a semblance of probability, and communicate the fact to me by a line in writing. You know that with bankers nothing but a written document will be valid.”

“I will do better than that,” said Albert; “my mother is wishing to go to the seaside⁠—what day is fixed for your dinner?”

“Saturday.”

“This is Tuesday⁠—well, tomorrow evening we leave, and the day after we shall be at Tréport. Really, count, you have a delightful way of setting people at their ease.”