Gontran, pale, his voice quivering, interrupted him: "Hold your tongue! You have already said too much—and I have listened to too much of this. In my turn, if I were not your friend I—I might show you that I have a short temper. Another word, and there is an end of everything between us forever!"
Then, slowly weighing his words, and flinging them in Paul's face, he said: "I have no explanations to offer you—I might rather have to demand them from you. There is a certain kind of indelicacy of which it is not the part of a man of honor or of an honest man to be guilty—which might take many forms—from which friendship ought to keep certain people—and which love does not excuse."
All of a sudden, changing his tone, and almost jesting, he added:
"As for this little Charlotte, if she excites your pity, and if you like her, take her, and marry her. Marriage is often a solution of difficult cases. It is a solution, and a stronghold, in which one may barricade himself against desperate obstacles. She is pretty and rich! It would be very desirable for you to finish with an accident like this!—it would be amusing for us to marry here, the same day, for I certainly will marry the elder one. I tell it to you as a secret, and don't repeat it as yet. Now don't forget that you have less right than anyone else yourself ever to talk about integrity in matters of sentiment, and scruples of affection. And now go and look after your own affairs. I am going to look after mine. Good night!"
And suddenly turning off in another direction, he went down toward the village. Paul Bretigny, with doubts in his mind and uneasiness in his heart, returned with lingering steps to the hotel of Mont Oriol.
He tried to understand thoroughly, to recall each word, in order to determine its meaning, and he was amazed at the secret byways, shameful and unfit to be spoken of, which may be hidden in certain souls.
When Christiane asked him: "What reply did you get from Gontran?"
He faltered: "My God! he—he prefers the elder, just now. I believe he even intends to marry her—and in answer to my rather sharp reproaches he shut my mouth by allusions that are—disquieting to both of us."
Christiane sank into a chair, murmuring: "Oh! my God! my God!"
But, as Gontran had just come in, for the bell had rung for dinner, he kissed her gaily on the forehead, asking: "Well, little sister, how do you feel now? You are not too tired?"