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Updated: June 28, 2025
Jenny Fancy, a lady of a certain age already, but so situated as to return to her lovers in notoriety what they gave her in good money. So much did Maxence learn without difficulty. As to any more precise details, it was impossible to obtain them. To his pressing questions upon M. Costeclar's antecedents, "He is a perfectly honest man," answered some. "He is simply a speculator," affirmed others.
"I am going to speak about it to my father," he said to Mlle. Lucienne. But whether he had been influenced by M. Costeclar's insinuations, or for some other reason, M. Favoral had rejected indignantly his son's request, saying that it was impossible to trust a young man who was ruining himself for the sake of a miserable creature.
To behold him thus suddenly, when she was wondering whether she would ever see him again; to see him appear at the very moment when she found herself alone, and exposed to the basest outrages, it was one of those fortunate occurrences which one can scarcely realize; and from the depth of her soul rose something like a hymn of thanks. Nevertheless, she was confounded at M. Costeclar's attitude.
"Would it be better to make use of what you know?" M. Costeclar joined his hands. "You would not do that," he said. "What good would it do you to ruin me?" "None," answered M. de Tregars: "you are right. But yourself?" And, looking straight into M. Costeclar's eyes, "If you could be of service to me," he inquired, "would you be willing?" "Perhaps.
By failing to keep your engagements, you have relieved me of mine. The pact is broken. According to the agreement, I have the right, as I leave here, to go straight to the police." M. Costeclar's dull eye was vacillating. "I did not think I was doing wrong," he muttered. "Favoral was my friend." "And that's the reason why you were coming to propose to Mlle. Favoral to become your mistress?
"Repeat, 'Mademoiselle'" M. Costeclar had expected worse from M. de Tregars' look. A horrible fear had instantly crushed within him all idea of resistance. "Mademoiselle," he stuttered in a choking voice. "I am the vilest of wretches," continued Marius. M. Costeclar's livid face was oscillating like an inert object. "I am," he repeated, "the vilest of wretches." "And I beg of you " But Mlle.
But you must have noticed the very slight success, to use no harsher word, of your assiduities." "Alas!" "And, perhaps, you will judge, like myself, that it would be the act of a gentleman to withdraw in presence of such positive repugnance?" An ugly smile was wandering upon M. Costeclar's pale lips. "Is it at the request of your sister, sir, that you make me this communication?" "No, sir."
Favoral alone at last with her children. She was about to call Maxence to account for his absence, when Mlle. Gilberte interrupted her. "I have to speak to you, mother," she said with a singular precipitation, "and to you also, brother." And at once she began telling them of M. Costeclar's strange visit, his inconceivable audacity, and his offensive declarations.
"It is a miracle to see you here, my dear Maxence!" exclaimed M. Costeclar, loud enough to attract the attention of several persons. To occupy the attention of others, anyhow and at any cost, was M. Costeclar's leading object in life.
"Sacre bleu!" he exclaimed: "what a handsome woman!" Without too much affectation, Maxence fell back a step or two. He felt himself blushing to his very ears, and trembled lest his sudden emotion were noticed, and he were questioned; for it was Mlle. Lucienne who thus excited M. Costeclar's noisy enthusiasm. Once already she had been around the lake; and she was continuing her circular drive.
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