"What does this letter mean," cried she warmly, "which I found in his pocket, six months ago? It isn't signed to be sure, but it must have come from a woman."
"A letter?"
"Yes, one that destroys all doubts. Perhaps you ask, why I did not speak to him about it? Ah, you see, I did not dare. I loved him. I was afraid if I said anything, and it was true he loved another, I should lose him. And so I resigned myself to humiliation, I concealed myself to weep, for I said to myself, he will come back to me. Poor fool!"
"Well, but what will you do?"
"Me? I don't know—anything. I didn't say anything about the letter, but I kept it; it is my weapon—I will make use of it. When I want to, I shall find out who she is, and then—"
"You will compel Tremorel, who is kindly disposed toward you, to use violence."
"He? What can he do to me? Why, I will follow him like his shadow—I will cry out everywhere the name of this other. Will he have me put in St. Lazare prison? I will invent the most dreadful calumnies against him. They will not believe me at first; later, part of it will be believed. I have nothing to fear—I have no parents, no friends, nobody on earth who cares for me. That's what it is to raise girls from the gutter. I have fallen so low that I defy him to push me lower. So, if you are his friend, sir, advise him to come back to me."
Sauvresy was really alarmed; he saw clearly how real and earnest Jenny's menaces were. There are persecutions against which the law is powerless. But he dissimulated his alarm under the blandest air he could assume.
"Hear me, my child," said he. "If I give you my word of honor to tell you the truth, you'll believe me, won't you?"
She hesitated a moment, and said: