‘You know how utterly impossible it is that I should live with you for one day, or even one hour, as your wife,’ continued Mora. ‘You know that I would sooner seek a refuge in the dark waters of yonder lake. Why, then, strive to make a desperate woman more desperate? And my sister!—she has never harmed you, she does not even know of your existence. Why try to wreck the happiness of her life, as you wrecked mine? Why try to shatter the fair future that lies before her? To do so can in nowise benefit you. Consider—think again before you finally decide. Have pity on this child, even though you have none on me. Ah, Laroche, you never had a sister, or you would know something of that which I feel!’
‘This is child’s play,’ he exclaimed with a sneer. ‘We are wasting time. A strong man makes use of others to effect his ends. I make use of you and your sister. I have said.’ He was convinced by this time that her quietude was merely that of despair—the quietude of a criminal who submits to the hands of the executioner.
‘Listen, Laroche!’ she continued in the same icy, impassive tones. ‘Although I am not what the world calls rich, I am not without means, as you are aware. Give me your promise to leave England, and never to seek out or in any way annoy either my sister or me, and half of all I am possessed of shall be settled upon you. It will be an income for life which nothing can rob you of.’
An eager, greedy light leaped into his eyes. ‘What do you call an income, dear madame?’ he said. ‘How many thousand francs a year would you be prepared to settle on your brave Hector?’
‘Six thousand francs a year would be about half my income.’
‘Six thousand francs! And my wife’s sister married to the son of one of the richest milords in England! Chut! Do you take your Hector for an imbecile?’ He rose, crossed to the pier-glass over the chimneypiece, adjusted his scarf in front of it, and then went back to his chair. ‘Do you know what is now the great ambition of your Hector’s life?’ he asked, gazing fixedly at her out of his half-shut eyes. ‘But no—how should you? Listen, then, and I will tell you. It is to be introduced to two, three, or more of the great London clubs where they occupy themselves with what you English call “high play.” Sir William or his son shall introduce me—when I am of their family. Six thousand francs a year! Parbleu! when once I have the entrée to two or three of the cercles I speak of, my income will be nearer sixty than six thousand francs a year.’
‘If such are your views, if this is the course you are determined to pursue, I am afraid that any further appeal by me would be utterly thrown away.’
‘Utterly thrown away, ma belle, an absolute waste of time, as I said before.’
‘I felt convinced from the first that it would be so.’
‘Ah! Then why amuse yourself at my expense in the way you have?’