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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Count's Millions"


Wilkie, who was partaking of a cup of chocolate. He was not only
up, but he was dressed to go out--dressed in such a style that he
would have been taken for a respectable groom. A couple of hours'
sleep had made him himself again; and he had regained the
arrogance of manner which was the distinguishing trait of his
character, and a sure sign that he was in prosperous
circumstances. As his unknown visitor entered he looked up, and
bruskly asked: "What do you want?"
"I called on business, monsieur."
"Ah, well! this isn't a favorable moment. I must be at Vincennes
for the races. I'm interested in a horse. So, you understand----"
M. Fortunat was secretly amused by M. Wilkie's nonchalance. "The
young fellow won't be in so much of a hurry when he learns my
business," he thought. And he replied aloud: "I can explain what
brings me in a few words, monsieur."
"Proceed, then."
M. Fortunat began by closing the door which had been intentionally
left open by the servant; and then, returning to M. Wilkie's side,
he began with an air of the greatest mystery: "What would you give
a shrewd man if he suddenly placed you in undisputed possession of
an immense fortune--of a million--two millions, perhaps?"
He had prepared this little effect most carefully, and he fully
expected to see Wilkie fall on his knees before him. But not at
all; the young gentleman's face never moved a muscle; and it was
in the calmest possible tone, and with his mouth half full that he
replied: "I know the rest.


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