"You need proofs."
"I shall find them."
"How you do detest him!"
"No: but I wish to destroy him. He's a dangerous man, Saint-Quentin. I have an intuition of it; and you know that I hardly ever deceive myself. He has all the vices. He is betraying his cousins, the Count and Countess. He is capable of anything. I wish to rid them of him by any means."
Saint-Quentin strove to reassure himself:
"You're amazing. You make combinations and calculations; you act; you foresee. One feels that you direct your course in accordance with a plan."
"In accordance with nothing at all, my lad. I go forward at a venture, and decide as Fortune bids."
"However...."
"I have a definite aim, that's all. Four people confront me, who, there's no doubt about it, are linked together by a common secret. Now the word 'Roborey,' uttered by my father when he was dying, gives me the right to try to find out whether he himself did not form part of this group, and if, in consequence, his daughter is not qualified to take his place. Up to now the four people hold together and keep me at a distance. I have vainly attempted the impossible to obtain their confidence in the first place and after it their confessions, so far without any result. But I shall succeed."
She stamped her foot, with an abruptness in which was suddenly manifest all the energy and decision which animated this smiling and delicate creature, and she said again: