United States or India ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Miserable man!" murmured the mistress. "Oh! most miserable," sobbed Cayrol, falling into an armchair. Madame Desvarennes approached him, and quietly placed her hand on his shoulder. "Cayrol, you are weeping? Then, forgive." The banker arose and, with lowering brow, said: "No! my resolution is irrevocable. I wish to place a world between Jeanne and Serge.
Panine turned horribly pale, and advanced toward Cayrol, despite Jeanne, who was clinging to him. "Don't insult me; it is superfluous," said he. "My life belongs to you; you can take it. I shall be at your service whenever you please." Cayrol burst into a fearful laugh. "Ah! a duel! Come! Am I a gentleman? I am a plebeian! a rustic! a cowherd! you know that! I have you now!
With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps the esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead of love. Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would satisfy the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne.
With a bound he was in the middle of the room. Jeanne threw herself before him; she no longer trembled. Cayrol took another step and fixed his glaring eyes on the man whom he sought, uttering a fearful oath. "Serge!" cried he. "I might have guessed it. It is not only money of which you are robbing me, you villain!"
Micheline's depressed manner caused her some anxiety; she guessed some mystery. Still the young wife's trouble might be the result of last evening's serious interview. But the sagacity of the mistress guessed a new incident. Perhaps some scene between Serge and Micheline in regard to the club. She was on the watch. Cayrol and Jeanne had gone for a drive to Mentone.
Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as you like. I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty. Our little paradise can wait for us." He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety. Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said: "You are very good." "I am not making any efforts to be so," retorted Cayrol, smiling. "What do I ask?
I tell you, and remember this: between Madame Desvarennes and the Prince there is a mortal hatred. One of the two will destroy the other. Which? Betting is open." "But what must I do? The Prince relies on me " "Go and tell him not to do so any longer." "Faith, no! I would rather he came to my office. I should be more at ease. Adieu, Marechal." "Adieu, Monsieur Cayrol. But on whom will you bet?"
Jeanne, softened, said, in a low tone: "Don't speak to me like that; leave me." "No," resumed Cayrol, quietly, "we are beginning life; there must be no misunderstanding. Be frank, and you will find me indulgent. Come, young girls are often romantic. They picture an ideal; they fall in love with some one who does not return their love, which is sometimes even unknown to him who is their hero.
She clung violently to him as a drowning person catches at a straw, with the vigor of despair. There was between Jeanne and Cayrol a sympathetic communication. Mentally called by his wife, the husband appeared. "Ah! at last!" said she. Cayrol, surprised at this welcome, smiled. Jeanne, without noticing, added: "Well, Monsieur; are we leaving soon?" The banker's surprise increased.
In your place I would rather make a few advances than remain hostile toward Madame Desvarennes. That would mend matters, you see. Flies are not to be caught with vinegar." Serge looked contemptuously at Cayrol, and put on his hat with supreme insolence. "Pardon me, my dear fellow; as a banker you are excellent when you have any money to spare, but as a moralist you are highly ridiculous."
Word Of The Day