The banker hesitated a moment, as if he were afraid to touch those cursed letters that he had sought so eagerly. Then, with a nervous movement, he took them. Close to me, I heard a moan. I grasped Madame Andermatt’s hand. It was cold.
“I believe, monsieur,” said Daspry to the banker, “that our business is ended. Oh! no thanks. It was only by a mere chance that I have been able to do you a good turn. Good-night.”
Mon. Andermatt retired. He carried with him the letters written by his wife to Louis Lacombe.
“Marvelous!” exclaimed Daspry, delighted. “Everything is coming our way. Now, we have only to close our little affair, comrade. You have the papers?”
“Here they are—all of them.”
Daspry examined them carefully, and then placed them in his pocket.
“Quite right. You have kept your word,” he said.
“But—-”
“But what?”
“The two checks? The money?” said Varin, eagerly.