"When the door close, the Intendant turn to M'sieu' Doltaire and
say, 'What is the end for which you play?' M'sieu' Doltaire make a
light motion of his hand, and answer, 'For three hunder' thousan'
francs.' 'And to pay, m'sieu', how to pay if you have lost?'
M'sieu' Doltaire lay his hand on his sword sof'. 'From the King's
coffers, as I say; he owes me more than he has paid. But not like
you, Bigot. I have earned, this way and that, all that I might ever
get from the King's coffers--even this three hunder' thousan'
francs, ten times told. But you, Bigot--tush! why should we make
bubbles of words?' The Intendant get white in the face, but there
are spots on it like on a late apple of an old tree. 'You go too
far, Doltaire,' he say. 'You have hint before my officers and my
friends that I make free with the King's coffers.' M'sieu' answer,
'You should see no such hints, if your palms were not musty.' 'How
know you,' ask the Intendant, 'that my hands are musty from the
King's coffers?' M'sieu' arrange his laces, and say light, 'As
easy from the must as I tell how time passes in your nights by the
ticking of this trinket here.
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