Chérubin ceased to write.
“Great heaven, my dear count!” he exclaimed; “why, that is horrible!”
“It is what you need.”
“And then, I must admit that I don’t clearly understand the letter.”
“If you understood it, the charm would be destroyed.”
“Why not write simply, as one speaks?”
“Because three-fourths of the women, who are impervious to seduction by what is simple and natural, are delighted when a man seems to have lost his head for love of them. Trust me; this note will deliver the heart of the lovely Pole into your keeping. Sign that and give it to me.”
Chérubin did as he was told.
“By the way,” said Daréna, as he took the letter, “don’t mention this intrigue to your Monsieur de Monfréville.”
“Why not?”