The marquis slowly unfolded the letter and handed it to me. I read:
"MY DEAR VISCOUNT,
"Although you often cause me fits of anger in which I would gladly strangle you, I believe that you are really my friend and that your offers of service are sincere. However, I will not take advantage of them. I have something better than that, and my affairs are going on famously once more. The only thing that embarrasses me and frightens me is Juliette. You are right: the moment that she knows, she will upset my plans. But what am I to do? I have the most idiotic and invincible attachment for her. Her despair takes away all my strength. I cannot see her weep without falling at her feet. You think that she will allow herself to be corrupted? No, you do not know her; she will never allow herself to be persuaded by greed. But anger? you say. Yes, that is more probable. What woman is there who will not do from anger what she would not do for love? Juliette is proud, I have become perfectly certain of that lately. If you tell her a little ill of me, if you give her to understand that I am unfaithful—perhaps!—But, great God! I cannot think of it without feeling as if my heart were being torn to pieces.—Try: if she yields, I will despise her and forget her; if she resists—why, then we will see. Whatever the result of your efforts, I have either a great calamity to dread or a great heartache to endure."
"Now," said the marquis when I had finished reading, "I am going to fetch Lord Edwards."
I hid my face in my hands and sat for a long time without moving or speaking. Then I suddenly hid the hateful letter in my bosom and rang violently.
"Let my maid pack a portmanteau in five minutes," I said to the servant, "and tell Beppo to bring the gondola."
"What do you mean to do, my dear child?" said the astonished viscount; "where do you propose to go?"
"To Lord Edwards, of course," I retorted with a bitter irony of which he did not understand the meaning. "Go and tell him," I added; "say that you have earned your pay and that I am flying to him."
He began to understand that I was frantic with rage and was jeering at him. He paused, uncertain what to do. I left the salon without another word, and went to put on my travelling dress. I came down again, attended by my maid, who carried the portmanteau. As I was stepping into the gondola, I felt that a trembling hand caught my cloak and held me back; I turned and saw Chalm, greatly disturbed and alarmed.
"Where in heaven's name are you going?" he said in an altered voice.
I was triumphant to have destroyed his sang-froid, the sang-froid of a villain, at last.