"That is only too true, madame. On hearing of her loss of fortune, Florence, far from manifesting any regret, seemed much pleased. Her first words were:
"'I hope you will no longer refuse to consent to a separation now.'
"'Less than ever,' I replied; 'for I pity you, and cannot bear the thought of your being exposed to want.'
"'Before I lost my property,' she replied, 'I was rather loath to leave you, for I have given up all hope of finding Valentine. That being the case, I was fairly content to live on quietly after my own fashion; but now, every hour spent in this house is torture to me, and I will endure it no longer, so consent to give me back my freedom, and accept your own.'
"'But how will you live,—you who have all your life been accustomed to ease and luxury?'
"'I asked for ten thousand francs of my dowry when I married,' she answered. 'Part of this sum is still in my possession, and it will suffice.'
"'But this small amount spent, what will you live on?'
"'That is a matter which does not concern you in the least,' she retorted.
"'On the contrary, it does concern me to such an extent that I shall save you in spite of yourself, for whatever you may do, I will never consent to a separation.'
"'Listen, monsieur,' she said, earnestly; 'your intentions are most generous, and I thank you for them. You have many very excellent traits. You are the most honourable man that ever lived, but our characters, dispositions, and tastes are, and always will be, so entirely incompatible that life would soon become intolerable to both of us. Besides, this is a matter for me to decide, for, having lost my fortune, I should be a burden to you, pecuniarily. Understand then, once for all, that there is no power on earth that can force me to live with you under such conditions. I consequently beseech you to let us part quietly and amicably.'"