Still, the
question rises: for what shall I save him? Shall he love a good woman
some day? Mayhap. So I will save him, not for the Church, but for the
possible but unknown quantity."
There was a chorus, noisy and out of all harmony. At the end there came
a crash, followed by laughter. Some convivial spirit had lost his
balance and had fallen to the floor, dragging with him several bottles.
Without heeding these sounds, the marquis continued his monologue. "Yes,
I will save him. But not with kindly words, with promises, with appeals;
he would laugh at me. No, Madame; human nature such as his does not stir
to these when they come from the lips of one he does not hold in respect.
The shock must be rude, penetrating. I must break his pride. And on
what is pride based if not upon the pomp of riches? I will take away his
purse. What was his antipathy to Mademoiselle de Montbazon? . . . That
would be droll, upon honor! I never thought of that before;" and he
indulged in noiseless laughter.
The roisterers could be heard discussing wagers, some of which concerned
horses, scandals, and women. Ordinarily the marquis would have listened
with secret pleasure to this equivocal pastime; but somehow it was at
this moment distasteful to his ears.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153