"What would you have me to do with your gold?" said Cecily, interrupting the notary, and shrugging her shoulders. "To reside in this chamber—what good would the gold do me? You have small invention!"
"But it is not my fault if you are a prisoner. Does this room displease you? Will you have it more magnificent? speak, command."
"For what purpose; once more, for what purpose? Oh! if I expected here an adored being, I would have gold, silk, flowers, perfumes, all the wonders of luxury; nothing could be too sumptuous, too enchanting."
"Well! these wonders of luxury; say a word, and——"
"For what purpose? What should I do with the frame without the picture? The adored being, where is he, oh! my master?"
"It is true!" cried the notary, bitterly. "I am old. I am ugly. I can only inspire disgust and aversion; she loads me with contempt; she scoffs at me, and I have not the strength to drive her away. I have only strength to suffer."
"Oh! the insupportable cry-baby; oh! the silly, with his complaints," cried Cecily, in a sardonic and contemptuous tone; he does nothing but groan and lament, and has been for ten days shut up alone with a young woman, in a deserted house."
"But this woman despises me—is armed—is locked!" cried the notary in a rage.
"Well! overcome the disdain of this woman; cause the dagger to fall from her hand; constrain her to open this door, which separates you from her; and that not by brutal force, which would fail."
"And how then?"