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Updated: May 25, 2025
Maxence had started at the mention of his father's name but, with a significant glance, M. de Tregars bid him remain silent, and, in a sarcastic tone, "Famous capture!" he murmured. "And which proves the clear-sightedness of justice." "But this is not all," resumed M. Costeclar. "Saint Pavin, the editor of 'The Financial Pilot, you know, is thought to be seriously compromised.
"A nice-looking man, isn't he? a really nice-looking man," whispered Mme. Desclavettes. And indeed he really thought so himself. Gesture, attitude, smile, every thing in M. Costeclar, betrayed the satisfaction of self, and the assurance of a man accustomed to success.
"From Marcolet, doubtless, a man without character, who has become my mortal enemy since the day when he tried a sharp game on me, and came out second best. Or from Costeclar, perhaps, who does not forgive me for having refused him my daughter's hand, and who hates me because I know that he committed forgery once, and that he would be in prison but for your father's extreme indulgence.
He was but the more proud; and he wore, cocked up to one side, a hat that had not known a brush since the day it had left the hatter's. "That fellow Costeclar," he went on, "he won't believe that there are in France a number of people who live and die without ever having owned a horse or a coupe; which is a fact, nevertheless.
It was not without mature thought that M. Costeclar had determined to withdraw, despite M. Favoral's pressing overtures. However infatuated he might be with his own merits, he had been compelled to surrender to evidence, and to acknowledge that he had not exactly succeeded with Mlle. Gilberte.
You must see that I am in a state of fearful anxiety." It was the first time that he thus allowed something to appear of what was passing within him, the first time that he ever complained. "M. Costeclar alone, father, can give you the explanation you ask of us," said Mlle. Gilberte. The cashier of the Mutual Credit shook his head. "Do you suppose, then, that I have not questioned him?
"Positively," approved the editor of "The Financial Pilot," "she is somewhat better than the rest of those ladies we have just seen going by." M. Costeclar was on the point of pulling out what little hair he had left. "And I don't know her!" he went on. "A lovely woman rides in the Bois, and I don't know who she is! That is ridiculous and prodigious! Who can post us?"
Gilberte, ignorant of life as she was, wondered in what world it might be that he had met with so many "successes." And, somewhat indignantly: "Unfortunately," she said, "the bourse is perfidious; and the man who drives his own carriage to-day, to-morrow may have no shoes to wear." M. Costeclar nodded with a smile. "Exactly so," said he. "A marriage protects one against such reverses.
"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.
Formerly, eh, you would never have consented to receive me thus, alone with you, which proves that girls should not be headstrong, my dear child." He, Costeclar, he dared to call her, "My dear child." Indignant and insulted, "Oh!" she exclaimed. But he had started, and kept on, "Well, such as I was, I am still.
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