Their appearance was in each case typical.

Ombreval was sullen and his dress untidy, even when allowance had been made for the inherent untidiness of the Republican disguise which he had adopted to so little purpose.

Des Cadoux looked well and fresh after his rest, and gave the Deputy an airy "Good morning" as he entered.

He had been at some pains, too, with his toilet, and although his hair was slightly disarranged and most of the powder was gone from the right side, suggesting that he had lain on it, his appearance in the main was creditably elegant.
"Citizen Ombreval," said La Boulaye, in that stern, emotionless voice that was becoming characteristic of him, "since you have acquainted yourself with the contents of the letter you stole from the man you murdered, you cannot be in doubt as to my intentions concerning you." The Vicomte reddened with anger.
"For your intentions I care nothing," he answered hotly--rendered very brave by passion--"but I will have you consider your words.

Do you say that I stole and murdered?
You forget, M.le Republican, that I am a gentlemen." "Meaning, of course, that the class that so described itself could do these things with impunity without having them called by their proper names, is it not so?
But you also forget that the Republic has abolished gentlemen, and with them, their disgraceful privileges." "Canaille!" growled the Vicomte, his eyes ablaze with wrath.
"Citizen-aristocrat, consider your words!" La Boulaye had stepped close up to him, and his voice throbbed with a sudden anger no whit less compelling than Ombreval's.