“I am certain there were none.”
In spite of herself she was thankful to have this man, with his shrewd business habits, his straightforward common-sense, by her side. She felt his strength a support.
“And between Monsieur de Cadanet and the baron?”
“Ah, that is different.” She hesitated, keeping her eyes fixed on M. Bourget; then went on: “You had better know all. You are probably aware that, owing to the incompetence of his intendant, Poissy became very seriously involved?”
“People said, madame, that Monsieur Léon had squandered his estates,” replied M. Bourget, speaking brusquely for the first time; “but that is neither here nor there. I am aware that at one time the mortgages were very heavy—very heavy indeed; and that Monsieur Léon contrived by degrees to pay them off. To do so required money.”
“Certainly,” said Mme. de Beaudrillart, coldly, “he could not work miracles. The money came from Monsieur de Cadanet, who was under a debt of gratitude to my husband.”
M. Bourget hardly heard these last words. “How much?” he said, quickly.
“Two hundred thousand francs.”
He stared at her, and brought his hand down heavily on the table.
“The same sum!”