“Mademoiselle, I apologize for my rudeness the other day. As a peace offering let me beg your acceptance of this....”
He held out a silver bag, which no doubt he had taken from one of his wretched girls. Margot shook her head.
“No, it’s not necessary. I’ll excuse you if you wish, but I don’t want to accept any present.”
“No? Then will mademoiselle do me the honour to dine with me this evening?”
“No, I cannot. I am not free.”
“Oh, I will beg madame, your aunt, to release you.”
“Thank you; but you must excuse me. I do not want to dine with any one.”
He repeated this offer several times. He had never failed with a girl before and his vanity was stung. From coaxings he came to threats.
“I’ll get you yet, you little devil, you,” he told her. “Even if I have to kidnap you, I’ll get you yet.”
There was a deadly certitude about Popol that made his threats impressive. Her fear of him became such an obsession that she would not go outside after dark. She told the Mère Tranquille she wanted to leave the quarter, but the hunchback laughed away her fears.