“You have heard his—propositions?”
“Perfectly. He was promising you a carriage, a box at the opera, diamonds, freedom. Isn’t that the dream of all young ladies?”
“It is not mine, madame!”
“Dear me! What better can you wish? You must not expect more from a husband than he can possibly give.”
“That is not what I shall expect of him.”
In a tone of paternal indulgence, which his looks belied:
“She is mad,” suggested M. Favoral.
Tears of indignation filled Mlle. Gilberte’s eyes.
“Mme. Desclavettes,” she exclaimed, “forgets something. She forgets that this gentleman dared to tell me that he proposed to settle upon the woman he marries a large fortune, of which his creditors would thus be cheated in case of his failure in business.”
She thought, in her simplicity, that a cry of indignation would rise at these words. Instead of which: