“And may I ask what has plunged you into difficulties?”
“Oh, my own folly; I don’t attempt to deny it—my own folly, helped on by a dolt of an intendant. If I had had any idea—However, I do not excuse myself. I have been confoundedly extravagant, and I mean to pull up short, I assure you. But, after all, other young men have been in the same position, and, with a helping hand, have managed to scramble out of it again. I have been up here for a week seeing what I could do—”
“At the gaming-tables!”
“No, no, I give you my word that is over. I have been trying to raise—”
“How much!”
“Two hundred thousand francs,” said the young man, in a low voice.
“There are money-lenders enough in Paris,” remarked M. de Cadanet, dryly.
“But with the securities I can offer, their terms are ruinous. If I were to accept them, Poissy would have to go. Judge for yourself whether this would not break my mother’s heart.”
“I have not the honour of the acquaintance of Madame de Beaudrillart.”
Léon did not answer at once. He was framing a more direct appeal.