“You do not think so.”
“But suppose I should refuse to do any thing more?”
He fixed upon her a glance in which she could read an irrevocable determination; and slowly,
“I have a perfect horror of scandal,” he replied, “and, as you perceive, I am trying to arrange every thing quietly between us. But, if I do not succeed thus, I must appeal to the courts.”
“Where are your proofs?”
“Don’t be afraid: I have proofs to sustain all my allegations.”
The baroness had stretched herself comfortably in her arm-chair.
“May we know them?” she inquired.
Marius was getting somewhat uneasy in presence of Mme. de Thaller’s imperturbable assurance. What hope had she? Could she see some means of escape from a situation apparently so desperate? Determined to prove to her that all was lost, and that she had nothing to do but to surrender,
“Oh! I know, madame,” he replied, “that you have taken your precautions. But, when Providence interferes, you see, human foresight does not amount to much. See, rather, what happens in regard to your first daughter,—the one you had when you were still only Marquise de Javelle.”