"
"Then why do you complain?"
"Oh, mother! don't you understand? How can I marry her? Would it
be right for me to think of offering her a dishonored name? It
seems to me that I should be guilty of a most contemptible act--of
something even worse than a crime--if I dared speak to her of my
love and our future before I have crushed the villains who have
ruined me."
Regret, anger, and the consciousness of his present powerlessness
drew from him tears which fell upon Madame Ferailleur's heart like
molten lead; but she succeeded in concealing her agony. "All the
more reason," she answered, almost coldly, "why you should not
lose a second, but devote all your energy and intelligence to the
work of justification."
"Oh, I shall have my revenge, never fear. But in the meantime,
what is to become of HER? Think, mother, she is alone in the
world, without a single friend. It is enough to drive one mad!"
"She loves you, you tell me. What have you to fear? Now she will
be freed from the persecutions of the suitor they intended to
force upon her, whom she has spoken to you about--the Marquis de
Valorsay, is it not?"
This name sent Pascal's blood to his brain. "Ah, the scoundrel!"
he exclaimed. "If there was a God in heaven----"
"Wretched boy!" interrupted Madame Ferailleur; "you blaspheme when
Providence has already interposed on your behalf. And who suffers
most at this moment, do you think?--you, strong in your innocence,
or the marquis, who realizes that he has committed an infamous
crime in vain?"
The sudden stopping of the cab put an end to their conversation.
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