“Sometimes Adolphe enters at that moment and I am content. But, my dear, I have less patience than love. I almost wish to tear in pieces the woman who can go everywhere, and whose society is sought out by men and women alike. What profound thought lies in the line of Moliere:
“‘The world, dear Agnes, is a curious thing!’
“You know nothing of this petty trouble, you fortunate Mathilde! You are well born. You can do a great deal for me. Just think! I can write you things that I dared not speak about. Your visits mean so much; come often to see your poor
“Caroline.”
“Well,” said I to the notary’s clerk, “do you know what was the nature of this letter to the late Bourgarel?”
“No.”
“A note of exchange.”
Neither clerk nor notary understood my meaning. Do you?