"What would they think of me?
Besides I owe them their revenge and I shall give it to them."
Neither Madame d'Argeles nor Pascal had noticed M. de Coralth, who
in the meantime had stolen into the room on tiptoe, and had been
listening to their conversation, concealed behind the folds of a
heavy curtain. He now suddenly revealed his presence. "Ah! my
dear friend," he exclaimed, in a winning tone. "While I honor
your scruples, I must say that I think madame is a hundred times
right. If I were in your place, if I had won what you have won, I
shouldn't hesitate. Others might think what they pleased; you
have the money, that is the main thing."
For the second time, the viscount's intervention decided Pascal.
"I shall remain," he said, resolutely.
But Madame d'Argeles laid her hand imploringly on his arm. "I
entreat you, monsieur," said she. "Go now, there is still time "
"Yes, go," said the viscount, approvingly, "it would be a most
excellent move. Retreat and save the cash."
These words were like the drop which makes the cup overflow.
Crimson with anger and assailed by the strangest suspicions,
Pascal turned from Madame d'Argeles and hastened into the dining-
room. The conversation ceased entirely on his arrival there. He
could not fail to understand that he had been the subject of it.
A secret instinct warned him that all the men around him were his
enemies--though he knew not why--and that they were plotting
against him.
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