wasn't half bad. And that theft of the motorcars: it was a neat piece of work," said the Duke in a gentle, insolent voice, infinitely aggravating.
Guerchard snorted scornfully.
"And a robbery at the British Embassy, another at the Treasury, and a third at M. Lepine's—all in the same week—it wasn't half bad, don't you know?" said the Duke, in the same gentle, irritating voice.
"Oh, no, it wasn't. But——"
"And the time when he contrived to pass as Guerchard—the Great Guerchard—do you remember that?" the Duke interrupted. "Come, come—to give the devil his due—between ourselves—it wasn't half bad."
"No," snarled Guerchard. "But he has done better than that lately. . . . Why don't you speak of that?"
"Of what?" said the Duke.
"Of the time when he passed as the Duke of Charmerace," snapped Guerchard.
"What! Did he do that?" cried the Duke; and then he added slowly, "But, you know, I'm like you—I'm so easy to imitate."
"What would have been amusing, your Grace, would have been to get as far as actual marriage," said Guerchard more calmly.
