[The only worthy reply is to grin. How can he cease this feeling deep within himself? Surely, Monsieur Orange has no inkling of what he does. All the same Blanc is hooked upon this as though a fish on a line.]

Daft is all the rage.

[A jest even when he can make well on any threat. The night air even in its darkness can sooth a little of the flames so that they are not so destructive.]

I have considered it. Though I am not for Paris. She has no love for me. Still, while I am away I think of her. [He keeps close to Orange so that his answers may be spoken softly.] The desire for the thrill of travel is in my blood.