“If only I had the proof of this!”
Uncle Graff looked at him fixedly.
“Well, what would you do?”
“Ah! I would have my revenge, that I swear! All my love would turn into hate. If my heart has been deceived with lying words, I would tear it out of my breast, rather than cherish a poisoned love! If that woman was not a victim, she would be a monster. And, by what I hold most sacred in existence, I would punish her!”
The old man looked at his nephew with considerable satisfaction.
“Oh! Mon Dieu! We don’t ask you to do that! Simply forget her. Above all, make up your mind not to fall into her toils again, if ever you meet her.”
At that moment the door opened, and Baudoin appeared. Holding a book in his hand, he approached mysteriously, and said—
“It is useful to make a thorough search. One can never examine too well.”
He laughed as he spoke and held the book aloft—
“Had I done nothing but cast a careless glance over the lady’s bed-chamber, I should not have found this.”