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Updated: June 11, 2025
"I cannot, I cannot," Fauchery kept repeating as he writhed to get free. Muffat's voice became harder. "I pray and beseech you for it! I want it!" And with that he fixed his eyes on him. The young man read menaces in that darkling gaze and suddenly gave way with a splutter of confused phrases: "Do what you like I don't care a pin about it.
But she flared up in exasperation, in utter rebellion. "It's sickening! Don't you understand I'm jolly tired of your company? Go and find your wife, who's making a cuckold of you. Yes, she's making a cuckold of you. I say so yes, I do now. There, you've got the sack! Will you leave me or will you not?" Muffat's eyes filled with tears. He clasped his hands together. "Oh, let's go to bed!"
As for me, I'm out of everything; I have nothing to put on now." Then she shut her eyes again and looked like one dead. A shadow of deep anguish had passed over Muffat's brow. Under the present stroke he had since yesterday forgotten the money troubles from which he knew not how to escape.
"No, he did not want to," was the journalist's abrupt reply, for he was taken by surprise, though he had got ready some sort of tale to explain Count Muffat's refusal. Seeing the young woman's sudden pallor, he became conscious of his folly and tried to retract his words. "He was unable to; he is taking the countess to the ball at the Ministry of the Interior tonight."
But over Muffat's shoulder she met Satin's gaze. And she left him anxiously and in a grave voice continued: "This marriage must come off, my friend; I don't want to prevent your daughter's happiness. The young man's most charming; you could not possibly find a better sort." And she launched into extraordinary praise of Daguenet.
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