"Then," stammered Sulpice, "what?—Must we never see each other again?"
"We shall recognize each other."
"You drive me away?"
"As a lover!"
"Ah! stay," said Vaudrey, as, pale with anger, he walked across the room, "you are a miserable woman, a courtesan, you understand, a courtesan!—Guy has told me everything! You gave yourself to Jouvenet to avenge yourself on Lissac, you made a tool of me and you are making a sport of Rosas who is marrying you!—What have I not done for you!—I have ruined myself! yes, ruined myself!"
"My dear," interrupted Marianne, "see the difference between a gentleman like Monsieur de Rosas and a little bourgeois like yourself. The duke might have ruined himself for me but he would never have reproached me. One never speaks of money to a woman. You are a very honest, domestic man and you were born to worship your wife! You should stick to her! You are not made of the stuff of a true-born lover. What you have just told me is the remark of a loon!"
"Ah! if I had only known you!"
"Or anything! But I am better than you, you see. I was better advised than you. The bill of exchange that you owe to the Dujarrier or to Gochard,—whichever you like—it inconveniences you, I know!"
"Yes," said Vaudrey, "but—"
"You would not, I think, desire me to pay it with the duke's money, that Monsieur de Rosas should pay your debts?"