"Dame! since he adores her——"
"Why, monsieur, do I need to tell you that love doesn't last forever? Besides, what purpose does that sentiment serve in a household when it's not reciprocated? Gustave is kind-hearted, sensitive, affectionate—much too affectionate. What he needs is a sweet, modest, loving helpmeet."
"That is true!" murmured Cherami; "and I know one of that sort."
"And you would have him marry a woman who has spurned him twice? Why, to miss being this Fanny's husband was the most fortunate thing that could happen to him! All his true friends ought to congratulate him on it. And you, monsieur, you set about removing the obstacle which had risen between my nephew and that widow! You fight with the man she preferred to Gustave! Ah! monsieur, cease to call yourself his friend; for his bitterest enemy would not have acted otherwise!"
Cherami paced the floor of the office with long strides, and bit his lips, muttering:
"Sacrebleu! that is all true. There is good sense in what you say. On the impulse of the moment, I didn't reflect. I saw but one thing to do—and that was to prevent the little widow's making a fool of Gustave."
"Oh! monsieur, she would do it much more effectively if he should marry her."
"After all, I didn't kill the count—a sword-thrust in the side is nothing; he will get well; the doctor said so."
"That is possible; but who can say that this duel will not change his plans, his ideas? At the count's age, a wound, an illness, sometimes ages a man ten years; and then love takes flight, and with it all thought of marriage."
"Oh! the count was dead in love, and when a fire gets started in an old house it burns faster than a new one."