"Geneviève," replied Dixmer, "what we require from Maurice needs something more than politeness,—a firm and attached friendship. This feeling is destroyed; we have nothing further to hope from him."
And Dixmer heaved a deep sigh, while his usually placid face bore a troubled expression.
"But," said Geneviève, hesitatingly, "if you think that Monsieur Maurice is so necessary to your projects—"
"It amounts to this," replied Dixmer, "that I despair of being able to succeed without him."
"Well, then, why do you not try some new method to regain the Citizen Lindey?"
It seemed to her that in speaking of the young man by his surname, her voice sounded less tender than when she called him by his Christian name.
"No," replied Dixmer, shaking his head; "I have done all that I could. Any new proceeding would appear singular, and necessarily arouse his suspicions; and then, look you, Geneviève, I see further than you into this affair. Maurice feels deeply wounded."
"Wounded!" exclaimed Geneviève, greatly moved. "What would you say? Speak."
"You know as well as I do, Geneviève, that in our rupture with the Citizen Lindey there is more than caprice."
"To what then do you attribute this rupture?"