"What mean you?"
"According to your orders, I went to the third rendezvous which Charles de Brévannes has appointed."
"Well?"
"I told him you would not consent to see him."
"Well?"
"Then he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with rage, 'Tell your mistress that I am here; that if she will not give me a speedy interview, at which you may be present—I do not object to that—this evening I will spread every where the tale of Raphael Monti—your lady will understand me.'"
"Did he say so—did he really?"
"And he added, 'She must know I can destroy her, and I will do it.'"
"Misery! misery to me and De Morville! What will he think of me? He will credit these atrocious calumnies,—did not unhappy Raphael believe them?"
"You are to appoint a meeting in some retired spot, the Luxembourg or the Jardin des Plantes, he said, and he will be there; if not, he will speak out. What is to be done? what—what? That wretch of a man is capable of every and any thing!"