“My God! How do you know?”
“Simple deduction, my Fanchette. You know the proverb, ‘A nod for a wise man and a rod for a fool.’ I have had my instruments at work since the first hint. There are horses ordered for to-night. Did you know that?”
“No.”
“I do not doubt you. Let her thank providence, that’s all, that she has sharper wits plotting to save her.”
“Save her, then, but spare him.”
“Do you say it? Why do you want him spared?”
“For her sake only. What harm has she ever done me?”
“There are some growths—infatuation, for example—that can only be treated with the surgeon’s knife.”
“O, my God!”
“You cannot reduce them so long as the root cause remains. Do you realise where we stand in this? At the fork of two roads—disgrace or an empire. A life, one mean poor life, must count for nothing in the decision.”