“You called me a brazen adventuress just now—and I acknowledge that I am not engaged in a very high business, trying to make you pay me for not keeping your word. But I feel sorry for you now. I dislike to witness your unhappiness. Say you will pay me, and let me go.”
“Never,” answered Mr. Romaine, looking up, with an unquenchable determination in his eyes.
“Very well, then,” answered Madame de Fonblanque, quietly; “you know I am a very determined woman. I came here to see for myself what your condition is. I shall go away to instruct my lawyers to bring suit against you immediately. I may not get one hundred thousand francs in money—but I will get a hundred thousand francs’ worth of revenge.”
“It seems to me,” presently said Mr. Romaine, with a cynical smile on his face, “your revenge will be two-edged.”
“So is nearly all revenge. It’s a very ignoble thing to avenge one’s self—few people can do it without sharing in the ignominy. But I weighed the matter well before I made up my mind. French newspapers take but little notice of what goes on outside of Paris. I have influence enough to silence those that would say anything about it—and I care not a sou for anybody or anything in this country or England. I shall go back to Paris and say it was another Madame de Fonblanque.”
Madame de Fonblanque, following Mr. Romaine’s example, seated herself, and opened the long, rich cloak of fur she wore. She was certainly very handsome, particularly when the heat of the room brought a slight flush to her clear cheeks.
“It is strange to me that a woman of your education and standing should engage in this scheme of yours,” after a while said Mr. Romaine.
“One hundred thousand francs,” responded Madame de Fonblanque.
“You might have married well a dozen times if you had played your cards right,” he continued.
“One hundred thousand francs,” again said Madame de Fonblanque.