Jean drew a deep breath and stepped slowly back.
“I should undeceive her,” he declared, “if by the act I alienated her good-will forever.”
Camille, who for some cause did not resent the first clause of this sentence, started at the second, and gave his brother a sharp look.
“Mon Dieu!” exclaimed he, with as much wonder as jealousy in his tone. “Do you love her too?”
The look which Jean turned upon his brother made that other’s weak and selfish heart stand still.
“I love her,” said he, “I will not say too, for you do not love her. Had you loved her you would have fled from her instead of using all your arts secretly to win her. A criminal—”
“Hush!” exclaimed the other, with a terrified look around him that for some reason made Jean quail with a sense of apprehension. “Do you want to draw the police upon me?”
With a stride Jean advanced upon his brother, and, laying his strong hand on his shoulders, uncompromisingly turned him towards the light.
“You tremble,” he muttered under his breath. “You shrink, and your face is like marble. Mon Dieu! Camille, is there anything new?”