“Perhaps so. But to return to what you were saying, Beauchamp.”
“Well, do you know why they die so multitudinously at M. de Villefort’s?”
“ ‘Multitudinously’ is good,” said Château-Renaud.
“My good fellow, you’ll find the word in Saint-Simon.”
“But the thing itself is at M. de Villefort’s; but let’s get back to the subject.”
“Talking of that,” said Debray, “Madame was making inquiries about that house, which for the last three months has been hung with black.”
“Who is Madame?” asked Château-Renaud.
“The minister’s wife, pardieu! ”
“Oh, your pardon! I never visit ministers; I leave that to the princes.”
“Really, you were only before sparkling, but now you are brilliant; take compassion on us, or, like Jupiter, you will wither us up.”
“I will not speak again,” said Château-Renaud; “pray have compassion upon me, and do not take up every word I say.”
“Come, let us endeavor to get to the end of our story, Beauchamp; I told you that yesterday Madame made inquiries of me upon the subject; enlighten me, and I will then communicate my information to her.”
“Well, gentlemen, the reason people die so multitudinously (I like the word) at M. de Villefort’s is that there is an assassin in the house!”