I looked very straight at Isabella, whose eyes, however, did not fall under mine. But I think she knew that I blamed her for this.
"You have insulted a friend of Miss Gayerson's."
"A matter," was my reply, "which rests between Miss Gayerson and myself. I have rid her house of a scoundrel—that is all."
I thought Isabella was going to speak, but she closed her pale lips again and glanced at Alphonse.
"You have been supplying Madame de Clericy with money during the last six months?" said he.—"Yes."
"Your own money?"—"Most certainly"—and I was soft-hearted enough to omit reminding him that he owed me a thousand francs.
"You have repeatedly told me," pursued Alphonse, who seemed to be nursing his anger into an artificial life, "that you are penniless. Whence comes this money?"
"I borrowed it."
"And if Madame de Clericy fails to repay you, you will be ruined?"
"Precisely."