"Ever since our conversation began,—I do not know why, but I have mistrusted your claim to the esteem and consideration which you enjoy."
"Really, madame, your mistrust does honour to your penetration!"
"Does it not? For this mistrust is based on mere nothings—on instinct—on inexplicable presentiments; but these intimations have rarely beguiled me."
"Madame, let us terminate this conversation."
"First learn my determination. I begin by telling you that I am convinced of the death of my poor daughter. But, no matter, I shall pretend that she is not dead: the most unlikely things do happen. You are at this moment in a position of which very many must be envious, and would be delighted at any weapon with which to assail you. I will supply one."
"You?"
"I, by attacking you under some absurd pretext, some irregularity in the declaration of death; say—no matter what—I will insist that my child is not dead. As I have the greatest interest in making it believed that she is still alive, though lost, this action will be useful to me in giving a wide circulation to the affair. A mother who claims her child is always interesting; and I should have with me those who envy you,—your enemies, and every sensitive and romantic mind."
"This is as mad as it is malevolent! What motive could I have in making your daughter pass for dead, if she were not really defunct?"
"That is true enough, and the motive may be difficult to find; but, then, have we not the attorneys and barristers at our elbows? Now I think of it (excellent idea!), desirous of sharing with your client the sum sunk in the annuity on this unfortunate child, you caused her disappearance."
The unabashed notary shrugged his shoulders.