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Updated: July 19, 2025
The mistress took it, read what was written upon it in shaky handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose. The paper bore these simple words: "Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs. Serge Panine." "Who brought this paper?" asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between her fingers. "The waiter who attends the card-room at the club."
He seized Panine violently by the arm, and said: "Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by you. You are my partner." "Scoundrel!" yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog. "Personalities," said the financier, in a jesting tone. "Then I take my leave!" And loosing his hold of the Prince, he went toward the door.
The name of Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had reassured the public, and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a vote of confidence. The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of the Avenue Maillot. Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal's private office.
And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame Desvarennes. "Ah! wretch!" cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage. "You are not even a Panine! The Panines knew how to die." "I have not time to act a melodrama with you," snarled Serge. "I am going to try to save myself." And he took a step toward the door. The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him.
I would not reproach you, I love you so much!" Micheline's face beamed with joy, and tears filled her eyes. "You are weeping," said Panine. "Ah! I feel the weight of my wrongs toward you. I see how deserving you are of respect and affection.
In a moment she vowed mortal hatred against Panine, and resolved to do all she could to prevent the longed-for marriage with her daughter. She was disturbed in her meditation by Cayrol's voice. He wished to take an answer to the Prince. What must he say to him? "You will let him know," said Madame Desvarennes, "that he must refrain from seeking opportunities of meeting my daughter.
The name of Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had reassured the public, and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a vote of confidence. The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of the Avenue Maillot. Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal's private office.
The appearance of the Prince lent the game a little fresh animation. Serge plunged into it as if it were a battle. Luck was on his side. In a short time he cleared the bank: a thousand louis. One by one the players retired. Panine, left alone, threw himself on a couch and slept for a few hours, but it was not a refreshing sleep. On the contrary, it made him feel more tired.
Jeanne had drawn near to Serge. Her burning face almost touched his. Her eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look. She was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost his presence of mind for a moment. His arms encircled the shoulders of the adorable pleader, and his lips were buried in the masses of her dark hair.
Now, Serge Panine ! But then, it's like everything that comes from the pen of M. Georges Ohnet, it's so well written. I wonder if you know the Maitre des Forges, which I like even better than Serge Panine." "Pardon me," said Swann with polite irony, "but I can assure you that my want of admiration is almost equally divided between those masterpieces." "Really, now; that's very interesting.
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