"So apparently, the dear little boy got his hands on a bottle of poison. Whenever someone annoys him, he doses them with it. First, it was Monsieur and Madame de Saint-Méran, they must have displeased him somehow. Three drops of his special mixture, and they were done for. Then came Barrois, old Monsieur Noirtier's servant, who sometimes scolded the brat. Same dose, same result. Finally, there was Valentine, whom he was jealous of. Same amount, same outcome."
"That's absolutely ridiculous," Château-Renaud scoffed.
"It's an interesting story though, isn't it?" Beauchamp said with a grin.
"It's absurd," Debray insisted.
"You doubt me? Ask my soon-to-be-ex-servant. It was the talk of the entire household."
"And this poison, where is it? What is it?"
"The child hides it."
"But where did he get it?"
"From his mother's laboratory."
"His mother keeps poisons in her laboratory?"
