But his lawyer had no sentiment, and had slipped the string from the package and was now busily counting the thousand-franc notes. When he had finished, he put them on the desk.
“Can I see you one moment, M. Brigot?” he asked.
Brigot, holding the girl’s hand and devouring her with his eyes, turned impatiently.
“No, no,” he said. “The document, my friend, the document! Give me a pen!”
“There is one point in the deed I must discuss,” said the lawyer firmly, “if mademoiselle will excuse us for a moment——” He opened the door of his inner office invitingly and with a shrug M. Brigot followed him in.
“I have told you, monsieur,” said the lawyer, “that I do not think your action is wise. You are surrendering a property for a sum less than a quarter of what you paid for it to a perfectly unknown woman——”
“M. l’Avocat,” said the other gravely, “you are speaking of a lady who to me is more precious than life!”
The lawyer concealed a smile.
“I have often spoken to you about ladies who have been more precious to you than life,” he said dryly, “but in their cases, no transfer of valuable property was involved. What do you know of this lady?”
“I know nothing except that she is adorable,” said the reckless Spaniard. “But for the fact that, alas! my wife most obstinately refuses to die or divorce me, I should be honoured to make madame my wife. As it is, what a pleasure to give her the land on which to build a beautiful villa overlooking my gorgeous Tangier—I am moving to Tangier very soon to look after my other property—and to know that her blessed presence——”