Chapter 13

The bright eyes held Franky's sternly. He lifted his right arm, and the withered hand still shut upon the battered snuff-box shot up two fingers in vigorous protest. "Pardon, Monsieur--you are very seriously mistaken. France was never more Catholic at heart than now. How strange!--when but twenty-one miles of salt water divide Calais from Dover--when the Entente Cordiale has established between your country and mine nominally close and intimate relations; that so complete an ignorance as to the French Nation, i…