"One does not come alone into the house of a man like you. You are going to sign this deed instantly."
"For what return?"
"My disdain and contempt, as always."
"Misery! that is violence!"
"It is so."
"You wish to take from me, gratis, my sweetest morsel,—in the very moment when, in the rage which possesses me, no reparation but revenge was left to console me a little! Ah, Madame Dutertre is your best friend! Ah, her tears will be bitter to you! Ah, the sorrows of this family will break your heart! Zounds, that is to the point, and I will have my revenge besides!"
"You refuse?"
"If I refuse? Ah, indeed, madame marquise, do you think me an idiot? And for a woman of mind you have shown yourself very weak in this. You might have caught me by cajolery—entangled by some promise. I was capable of—"
"Come, now, who would stoop so low as to pretend to wish to seduce M. Pascal? You are ordered to repair an injury, you make reparation, and M. Pascal is despised after as before, to-day as yesterday, and to-morrow as to-day."
"Misery! this is enough to make one mad!" cried the financier, astonished, and almost frightened by the tone of conviction with which Madeleine spoke, and he asked himself if she had not discovered some secret rottenness in his life which she intended to use as a weapon. But our hero had been a prudent scoundrel, and soon took heart again after a rapid examination of conscience, and replied: