“I entreat you,” he whispered, “if you love me—”
If she loved him! Had she not at his command left the door open that he might enter? Had she not adorned herself in the dress and ornaments that he liked, to make herself beautiful in his eyes? What could it be that he was asking her now to grant to him? How was it that she, usually so weak, was now so strong in her denials? Let us listen for a moment.
“No, no,” she answered, indignantly, “it is impossible.”
“But I only ask it for two days, Clarisse. With these six thousand francs I will pay the five thousand I have lost, and with the other thousand I will conquer fortune.”
She looked at him with an expression of absolute terror.
“No, no,” she repeated, “it cannot be. You must find some other way.”
“But there is none.”
“Listen. I have a rich friend; I will write to her and ask her to lend me the money.”
“But I must have it to-morrow.”
“Well, then, find the Director; tell him the truth.”