Micheline’s late betrothed, with despair in his heart, allowed his hands to be pressed and wrung in silence. The voice of her whom he loved brought tears to his eyes.
“How generous and good you are!” said the young girl, “how nobly you have sacrificed yourself!”
“Don’t thank me,” replied Pierre; “I have no merit in accomplishing what you admire. I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer.”
There was a great commotion in the drawing-room. Cayrol was explaining to Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking place. Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law. It was a great event.
“Certainly,” said the German; “Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law will become a financial power. And a Prince, too. What a fine name for a board of directors!”
The two financiers looked at each other for a moment; the same thought had struck them.
“Yes, but,” replied Cayrol, “Madame Desvarennes will never allow Panine to take part in business.”
“Who knows?” said Herzog. “We shall see how the marriage settlements are drawn up.”
“But,” cried Cayrol, “I would not have it said that I was leading Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law into speculations.”
“Who is speaking of that?” replied Herzog, coldly. “Am I seeking shareholders? I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every day.”