Part 36 (1/2)
”One never knows.”
”And Marguerite?”
”I should hardly tell you the truth if I said I think no more about her; but I am one of those with whom everything depends on the way in which one breaks with them. Now Marguerite ended with me so lightly that I realize I was a great fool to have been as much in love with her as I was, for I was really very much in love with that girl.”
You can imagine the way in which I said that; the sweat broke out on my forehead.
”She was very fond of you, you know, and she still is; the proof is, that after meeting you to-day, she came straight to tell me about it.
When she got here she was all of a tremble; I thought she was going to faint.”
”Well, what did she say?”
”She said, 'He is sure to come here,' and she begged me to ask you to forgive her.”
”I have forgiven her, you may tell her. She was a good girl; but, after all, like the others, and I ought to have expected what happened. I am even grateful to her, for I see now what would have happened if I had lived with her altogether. It was ridiculous.”
”She will be very glad to find that you take it so well. It was quite time she left you, my dear fellow. The rascal of an agent to whom she had offered to sell her furniture went around to her creditors to find out how much she owed; they took fright, and in two days she would have been sold up.”
”And now it is all paid?”
”More or less.”
”And who has supplied the money?”
”The Comte de N. Ah, my dear friend, there are men made on purpose for such occasions. To cut a long story short he gave her twenty thousand francs, but he has had his way at last. He knows quite well that Marguerite is not in love with him; but he is very nice with her all the same. As you have seen, he has repurchased her horses, he has taken her jewels out of p.a.w.n, and he gives her as much money as the duke used to give her; if she likes to live quietly, he will stay with her a long time.”
”And what is she doing? Is she living in Paris altogether?”
”She would never go back to Bougival after you went. I had to go myself and see after all her things, and yours, too. I made a package of them and you can send here for them. You will find everything, except a little case with your initials. Marguerite wanted to keep it. If you really want it, I will ask her for it.”
”Let her keep it,” I stammered, for I felt the tears rise from my heart to my eyes at the recollection of the village where I had been so happy, and at the thought that Marguerite cared to keep something which had belonged to me and would recall me to her. If she had entered at that moment my thoughts of vengeance would have disappeared, and I should have fallen at her feet.
”For the rest,” continued Prudence, ”I never saw her as she is now; she hardly takes any sleep, she goes to all the b.a.l.l.s, she goes to suppers, she even drinks. The other day, after a supper, she had to stay in bed for a week; and when the doctor let her get up, she began again at the risk of her life. Shall you go and see her?”
”What is the good? I came to see you, because you have always been charming to me, and I knew you before I ever knew Marguerite. I owe it to you that I have been her lover, and also, don't I, that I am her lover no longer?”
”Well, I did all I could to get her away from you, and I believe you will be thankful to me later on.”
”I owe you a double grat.i.tude,” I added, rising, for I was disgusted with the woman, seeing her take every word I said to her as if it were serious.
”You are going?”
”Yes.”
I had learned enough.
”When shall I be seeing you?”