“You,” she cried, scanning him from head to toe in exasperation. “Do you consider it wise for you—of all men—to interfere with my liberty? Remember the affair of the Boulevard Haussmann!”
The speech had its desired effect. The artist shrank from her.
“At the same time,” exclaimed Gabrielle, addressing her, “remember there are other sentences in the Penal Code besides imprisonment.”
“I don’t understand you,” answered Valérie, giving her shoulders a shrug indicative of unconcern.
“There is death for those who take the lives of their fellow-creatures.”
The adventuress shuddered. Then resuming her air of indifference, said—
“You are talking enigmas.”
“You wish me to speak more plainly. Very well. Perhaps you have forgotten that night we met at my rooms in the Boulevard St. Michel, when, after your taunts and threats, I prophesied that a day would come when I would hold your life in my hands, and compel you to beg for mercy. That day has dawned.”
“I’ll not stay here to be insulted in my own house,” cried Valérie fiercely.
“We shall compel you,” remarked her husband abruptly.